Shattered boundaries
by Sayuri-2012
Summary: Will love be enough to help her through her worst nightmare? Warning M rated: Some chapters may be a difficult read, but there will be a happy ending eventually. EO all the way.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Just a bit of background on this story. It actually started off as a one-shot entitled "Happy at Last" but morphed into something much more complicated and intense. As a result, since originally posting (19th Nov 2012) I have heavily edited the first chapter ****(6th Feb 2013) **and hope that it reads more fluently and fits in much better with the whole story.  
This story has many twists and turns and there will be some chapters that may be difficult to read. (There are warnings on individual chapters). Ultimately though, it's an EO journey, based on the premise that love can conquer anything. S x

1

_A few months after Elliot left SVU._

Her heart rate quickened when she saw the name appear on her phone's display. She hadn't heard from him in months. Why on earth was he suddenly ringing now after all this time? What could he possibly have to say to her? She had tried so hard to put him out of her mind and just get on with her life, but seeing his name brought it all back as though it were yesterday. She had considered him her best friend and yet he had walked out on her with barely a second glance back. Their friendship had meant nothing to him. Well, maybe not nothing, she thought as she fingered the necklace permanently hanging around her neck, but certainly not enough for him to want to consider keeping her in his life in any meaningful way after he had retired from the force. The emptiness she felt was like a constant ache that never really left her, however much she tried to convince herself she was 'over it'. Unsure how sensible it really was to risk deepening old wounds, she briefly considered letting it go to the answer machine, but she knew she could never do that and she guessed he would know that.

"Elliot?" she said nervously, her voice barely more than a whisper due to the sudden and inexplicable constriction of her now very dry throat. Her fingers gripped her phone like a vice. She held her breath waiting to hear that voice; the voice that for more than a decade had soothed, comforted, encouraged, inspired, yet more often than not thoroughly enraged her. There was no end to the complexity that had been their partnership. She had previously sometimes wondered if there wasn't some kind of invisible force drawing them together, for however hard they fought against it, however much they ran in a futile attempt to escape facing their feelings, they had always ended up back side by side. Then suddenly, he had completely pulled himself away with a finality that had hit her like a ton of bricks. It had been a complete shock. For weeks she kept expecting him to walk back through the door apologising profusely, saying he had made a huge mistake… and after a while they would surely be back to normal, sparring over who got to drive that day. The weeks had turned into months, however, and he never returned.

There was no response on the other end of the phone and she wondered if she had been hallucinating and maybe he hadn't called after all. A quick inspection confirmed that the name was definitely his and that she was connected.

"What do you want, Elliot?" she said finally, frustrated. She hated that she was still so affected by him. She wished she had been strong enough to never answer the damn call in the first place. She knew she had no control over her actions when it came to him though. However angry she felt, she knew it would ultimately never change how she really felt about him, the feelings she tried to bury, but never quite succeeded.

"So you're _Liv_?" The voice was cold, the tone antagonistic but more shocking, it was female. Her mind started racing. It definitely wasn't Kathy. She knew her too well. Besides Kathy, and the kids for that matter, knew her too, so they would hardly be calling wondering who she was.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"Bitch!"

Olivia almost gasped in shock, her jaw dropping in amazement. What was this? Who was this random woman ringing up on Elliot's phone? Where was Elliot?

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are," she said, managing to shift her focus away from Elliot and back to the strange woman on the other end of the phone. "…but I think you have a wrong number." She prodded the end-call button with decidedly more force than necessary and slung her phone down on the table, now thoroughly pissed off… but also confused and hurt. It hit her hard how much she actually did want him to call her and she found her eyes swimming with tears.

She heard her phone vibrating again and she sighed, blinking hard and wiping away the couple of tears that were on the verge of escaping and rolling down her cheeks. The sensible thing would definitely be to ignore it… but what if it really was him this time? The chances of that weren't high though, given the fact she had only just hung up.

She reached for the phone.

"What do you want?" she asked wearily, trying to appear unruffled and in control.

"I know what you and Elliot have been doing. I just wanted to introduce myself. This is his _girlfriend_!"

"What?" Nothing could have thrown her more. Elliot had a girlfriend? That must surely mean he had split up with Kathy? He had since found someone else already? Her confusion as to the reason for the call suddenly dissipated as she realised that for some reason completely unbeknownst to her, this woman had obviously got it into her head that Elliot had been cheating – and with _her_. It was preposterous; completely crazy. She had barely time to think though for the woman on the other end was continuing her rant.

"How could you do this? Why would you steal someone else's boyfriend! You slut!"

Even though she recognised it was obviously a huge misunderstanding, the way this woman was talking to her made her initially reluctant to enlighten her to the truth. What was going through Elliot's head? Did he have any inkling he was dating a nut job? How old was this woman anyway? She sounded youngish, she decided. She certainly had balls to be ringing her like this.

"Look, you've made a huge mistake," she said, deciding to attempt to reason with her. The news that Elliot and Kathy had split up still had her reeling and it left her feeling like she was floundering. Defending herself for an affair that just wasn't happening seemed much less of a priority than finding out what had happened with his marriage. She wondered how Elliot was. Separating from his wife would have knocked him for six. Why on earth hadn't he told her, let her be there for him? He would have needed a friend. Was that why he had hooked up with this woman? Was it some kind of rebound thing? Was it a solution to his loneliness; a middle-aged crisis even? Olivia felt a little guilty dismissing this woman's role in his life so quickly, but she knew Elliot and knew he would have taken the split with his wife hard. She wondered if this woman was a blond like Kathy. Something then occurred to her.

"Why do you think we're having an affair?" she asked curiously. A simple check of his phone would surely have easily revealed that he hardly ever called or messaged her.

"He whispers your name, in his sleep," the woman spat. "Why would anyone do that unless something was going on? You must think I'm an idiot!"

Olivia's eyes widened at the revelation. Elliot was whispering her name? Did that mean he really cared about her after all? Did he miss her? Was he feeling guilty about leaving her like he had? She doubted it was anything more than the man missing his partner of over a decade, but even so, hearing that he cared even a little, she couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face.

"Look, I promise you nothing is going on. We were partners for years. We had a long professional relationship. He's probably just remembering and thinking about that."

"Yeah sure! Look, I'm warning you now. If you ever come anywhere near him again, I won't be responsible for my actions…"

"OK then," Olivia scoffed, fairly confident that she probably had the upper hand should it come to a fist fight. It occurred to her how 'high school' this situation seemed.

Apparently finished, the woman hung up and Olivia sank back on the sofa, still reeling. Elliot and Kathy had split up? He had a new girlfriend? _He was whispering her name? _

…

The call she apprehensively hoped for never came. She had assumed that his girlfriend, whatever her name was, would be unable to resist giving him a hard time about his supposed affair and that he'd find out about her call to his supposed fling. As the hours dragged on though, there was no communication from him and she couldn't help feeling disappointed. She considered calling or messaging him herself, but didn't want to risk another run in with his girlfriend, not least because the thought of him with someone other than Kathy, someone she had at least been used to from the start, made her feel something she wasn't sure she wanted to put a name to. It was semi-amusing to think of Elliot being smothered like that though. She wondered if he had any idea what he was dealing with.

By the time nine o'clock came and went, she decided she likely wouldn't be hearing from him that day and moreover, given the lack of communication from him generally over the last few months, it would be reasonable to assume she might never hear anything. She decided to get changed into her pyjamas and open a bottle of wine. The call had shaken her to the core and she was starting to feel depressed again as she thought of him and admitted to herself just how much she missed him. It was useless dwelling on the situation though. He had gone and that was that. She was alone as she always had been.

By the time she was on the second glass, she had convinced herself that it was much easier to try and pretend that she was angry with him rather than accept the truth, the thing she had avoided admitting all this time: the fact that she was desperately and completely in love with him. There was no avoiding it. With tears in her eyes, she contemplated whether she should run a bath or not, but then the insistent pounding on her door began. A wave of nervousness hit her as something told her it must be him. It had to be. Who else would it be? Unless it was that crazy woman! Maybe she had found out her address and come looking for her. One look through the peep hole though immediately informed her that her initial suspicions were correct. It was _him_.

Her hands shook as she unbolted the door. She had no idea what to say to him. She was so angry that he had just walked away, yet at the same time she was so happy to see him after all this time. She decided that she wouldn't say anything. She'd let him do the talking. He was the one who'd left. He was the one whose girlfriend had phoned her with a truckload of accusations and insults. He owed her. He could do the talking.

She forced herself to focus on her anger and she opened the door with a cold glare plastered over her face, which she desperately hoped he wouldn't see through.

"Can I come in?" he asked, sounding subdued.

"No," she replied sternly. It was a risk. There was nothing she wanted more than to pull him into her arms, drag him inside and never let him go again.

"Liv, please?" It was as close to begging as she'd ever heard him, but she had to be strong. He had hurt her badly and she wasn't going to let him brush it under the carpet. She deserved to have her feelings acknowledged. She needed him to understand.

"What do you want, Elliot?" she asked, annoyed to hear her voice crack slightly making her worry that he'd immediately see through her tough exterior down to the vulnerable part of her that just wanted to fall into his arms and cry like a baby.

"Do you really want to have this conversation in the hallway, where all your neighbours can hear?"

She inwardly grimaced. She most certainly didn't want to be the focus of tomorrow's lobby gossip in her building.

"Fine," she grumbled, standing back just enough to allow him to slip inside.

He walked over towards the couch and stood awkwardly, waiting for her to say or do something, but she stubbornly stood with her arms folded, glaring at him. It was the only way she could hide her real feelings right now. She couldn't help but notice he had lost some weight since she'd last seen him and he looked… amazing.

"Mimi told me she called you," he said finally.

"Mimi? So that's her name? How old is she anyway?" The last thing she wanted was to appear jealous, but she couldn't help herself.

"Old enough," he sighed. "I made a mistake, Liv. It's over."

"I see. So why are you here?" She was determined not to make this in any way easy for him and to be honest was kind of enjoying his discomfort.

"I gather she wasn't overly polite."

"You could say that. It's not everyday you get a random caller telling you you're a bitch and a slut for having an affair with your part… ex-partner." She blushed very slightly, realising her near-miss. She hoped he wouldn't pick up on it. Luckily he didn't seem to.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he said, stepping closer towards her. For a moment she froze as she registered his increasing proximity. How close was he going to get?

"It's OK," she said, "She's obviously a little unstable."

"No I mean, for everything. Not just her. I'm really sorry Liv."

She glanced at him sharply. His head now hung in apparent shame or remorse, or something. She almost hated him for not even allowing her to remain angry. She could feel herself softening. He seemed to be picking up on her changing attitude and he stepped even closer.

"Liv, I… I missed you." The words rang in the empty air. She believed them, but she couldn't get past the hurt of the last few months so quickly. It irritated her that he thought he could just pop round out of the blue, say sorry and all would be forgiven.

"You could have called!" she said as icily as she could, slipping around him and sinking down onto the sofa.

"I know," he replied sadly. "I should have." He slowly stepped over and perched himself down beside her.

She sighed. They were getting nowhere. She was starting to doubt he even had a good reason for not having contacted her in so long.

"Why are you really here, Elliot?" she asked, all animosity now gone from her voice. She was so tired of the emotional rollercoaster. She just wanted to know what he wanted and for him to leave, so she could get back to her wine and cry herself to sleep.

"When Mimi told me what happened and how she had rung you, accusing you of that, it just got me thinking. I just had to see you. I have to make this right again Liv. I need you in my life."

"How can you do this, Elliot?" she said, suddenly angry again. "You left, no calls, no texts, nothing! I had no idea if you were OK or not. You were my best friend and you cut me out of your life for no good reason. I can't do it again. I can't let you back in, knowing that you might just up and leave again at any time!" She felt the tears pricking at her eyes now and embarrassed she looked down at her knees. There was no way she was going to let him see her cry. No way. "Please, just go, Elliot," she said firmly.

Instead he shuffled closer and took her hand in his. She tried to pull away, but he gripped her with just enough force to keep her hand in his without hurting her. She didn't resist further. She was too busy concentrating on blinking back the tears.

"Liv, it's not like that. I didn't cut you out because I didn't care. Please don't think that"

"Then what is it?" she asked. She meant to sound angrier; stronger, but with his hand around hers, it was hard to focus on much other than how good it felt to be touching him. She could feel the attraction. It was a pull she struggled hard to ignore. His fingers were stroking her hand now and he forced them between hers and squeezed her hand gently. Then his other hand suddenly moved up to her necklace, the one she had worn constantly since the day she had received it.

"Semper fi," he whispered.

Her stomach clenched with a ripple of sensation that made her shiver. His hand moved upwards from the pendant, tracing a path up her neck and towards her face. His palm was now against her cheek and she knew he could feel the dampness there.

"Elliot, don't…" she moaned softly. This was too much. How could he come here? How could he touch her like this and not know what it was doing to her, how much it hurt to have him so close but so far. She closed her eyes hoping to prevent the fresh tears from leaving.

"Olivia, look at me." It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she found herself opening her eyes, her gaze meeting his immediately. He was staring straight at her intensely and she was suddenly terrified. There was something in that look, something that told her what he was about to say.

"Olivia, the truth is… I'm in love with you…"

Her heart almost stopped as the words filtered through to her brain. Surely this couldn't be real. She stared at him horrified. He was obviously expecting a verbal reaction, but she was stupefied. She had never in a million years dreamed that he felt the same way. She had fantasized about this moment so many times, but she had known it wasn't real. She blinked hard. Maybe it was the wine? Maybe she was dreaming? She opened her eyes. He was still there, looking at her expectantly, a growing expression of hurt and disappointment on his face. She realised she needed to say something. She needed to tell him she loved him too, always had, but the words wouldn't come. Unable to speak, she simply leaned in, clutching his shoulders desperately, pulling him to her. She felt his arms wrapping around her as he finally held her and for several seconds they remained like that, locked in each other's arms in an embrace that seemed to convey everything that she wanted to say, yet couldn't.

She felt him pulling away, grasping her arms to remove them from him and for a second she knew it had been too good to be true. He was talking about platonic love; their friendship. He didn't love her in the same way she loved him, the way she had always loved him.

Then he took her chin in his hand and raised her head, bringing his own so close to hers, but not yet touching. He stared directly into her eyes and she knew he was asking her permission to go ahead. Impulsively she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.

As soon as she felt his warm soft mouth against hers a shudder ran through her body. It was like a wave of electricity that made her tingle, causing goose bumps all over. As their kiss quickly deepened and she felt him pushing his tongue inside her mouth, she felt the undeniable ache between her legs as she finally gave in to her feelings, wrapping her arms around him once again as he did his around her. So many lonely nights she had conjured up his face, imagining his hands exploring her body as she laid on her bed with her hands between her legs, stimulating herself in the way she had longed he would. Now he was here, kissing her, caressing her, overwhelming her. She wasn't sure if it was all the years of anticipation and waiting but she knew she had never been so turned on by a single kiss in her whole life.

She felt like she was going to explode. Part of her wanted to pull away and find the words to tell him how she felt about him, but the sensation of him on her neck was too powerful. She was losing control and she was happy to give in to it. As he kissed her neck, exploring the sensitive area around her collar bones she knew there was no way she could stop. She would go wherever he took her.

He returned to her lips and she kissed him eagerly. How could she never have known how amazing it would feel? It was as though their mouths were made to lock together. He stroked the side of her head and face and she shuddered again at his touch. Then he started kissing her where he had just stroked and she felt him place his fingers to her mouth. Gently she took them inside, the sucking action causing a pool of wetness between her legs. She had no idea how she was going to get through this to the end. She could barely breathe.

He pulled her closer to him and she hoisted herself onto his lap, wrapping herself tightly around his body, enjoying the pressure of his thigh, which she so badly needed to go some way toward relieving the ache between her legs. She could feel his erection pressing against her through his trousers and the thought of him growing hard for her intensified her need for him all the more. His tongue was now back deep inside her mouth, desperately exploring everywhere. His lips pressed down as he varied the pressure constantly and expertly. His hands now began fumbling with the buttons of her pyjamas, as he desperately sought to remove the last remaining barriers between them.

"Elliot," she managed to murmur between the motions of their kissing.

"Mmm?" he said, moving to her neck again, allowing her to speak more easily.

"Not here."

He pulled away and looked questioningly into her eyes.

"Bedroom…" she whispered nervously.

He grinned and then to her surprise she suddenly found herself being lifted upwards as he stood, holding her in his arms easily, as though she were as light as a child. He laughed at her yelp in protest and kissed her on the forehead. Then he carried her to her bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed.

He immediately went straight back to work, kissing her, but this time working downwards in a slow tantalising descent. He stopped to pull her now only half-buttoned up pyjama top over her head and she went to work to remove his shirt. He grinned when he realised she was braless and he pulled away from her mouth just long enough to take in her now naked upper body. He murmured with pleasure as he buried his head in her chest and started caressing her nipples with his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back, unable to properly reach anywhere else but wanting, needing to touch him.

As he took her nipple into his mouth she squirmed against him, rocking her hips in an attempt to control the friction. This was moving so fast. She highly doubted she would last much longer. She placed her hands on his face and encouraged him to raise his head. He leaned forward and started kissing her on the mouth again. She began pulling at his belt, while simultaneously he pulled at her pyjama bottoms pulling their garments completely free from the bodies and kicking them to the floor.

Clad only in their lower underwear, they once again wrapped themselves in each other's arms, side by side, rocking gently against each other. Then he slipped free and began moving down her body, kissing and teasing making her literally squirm as he kissed the sensitive skin on her neck, moving down to her breasts and then to her stomach. He continued on his path and finally reached his destination, plying the insides of her thighs with kisses for a short while, before gently hooking his fingers through her panties and pulling them down her legs.

Her eyes almost rolled back in her head as she felt the initial sensation of his mouth on her most sensitive parts. As he explored her with his tongue and lips, she fisted the covers on the bed, moving her legs apart slightly and opening up to him, desperate to get the release she craved. She found herself giving in completely to the sensations. She was completely his in that moment. He possessed her. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She moved against him, as she felt it building. He seemed to detect just how close she was and he quickened his actions, sucking, licking, even the occasional soft and gentle nip which almost made her want to cry out with the intensity of the pleasure he was producing inside her. Her body arched as the first wave hit and she lay trying to catch her breath for a good minute.

Then a sudden and desperate need to feel him inside her hit. She wanted to get as close to him as she possibly could. She wanted him to feel as good as she did. She began to remove his underpants, the final barrier between them and he understood what she wanted, what she needed. He started to nestle in between her legs, but then he stopped, his face was so close to hers that all she could see were his blue eyes, gazing into hers as he spoke with a conviction that left her in no doubt that he meant what he was saying from the bottom of his heart.

"I love you Olivia Benson."

She pulled him to her desperately and reached down to take him in her hand to finally guide him inside her. He gently and slowly pushed his way in, giving her time to adjust to him, enjoying the new onslaught of sensations that threatened to now overwhelm him. He pushed in as deep as he could reach. The enormity of being inside her almost brought tears to his eyes and he blinked, amazed at how much this felt emotional just as much as it did physical. His whole being was enveloped with a feeling he had never felt before and he knew that this was everything. This was where he belonged. They were one entity.

"I love you too," she whispered and smiling he leaned down and kissed her as he started to rock rhythmically, slow at first then picking up speed eventually moving in a desperate frenzy, as for a moment he lost control and the only thing he could think of was the sensation of feeling himself inside her like this. He was already so close that he knew he wouldn't last long. He didn't care. He needed the release and it came suddenly. He shuddered and felt her muscles clamping around him as he rode out the waves. He could barely breathe. As he slowly returned to a more normal state of existence, he turned his attention back to her, expertly using his hands and their combined dampness to push her over the edge for the second time that evening.

Once she finished convulsing, he wrapped his body around hers, holding her tightly with his head buried in her neck. He never wanted to move from this position. She held him equally firmly and for several minutes they just lay like that, both catching their breath trying to take in the enormity of what had just happened and what it meant.

"I never want to let you go," he whispered. "I just want to do that again and again and again."

She smiled at him. "Me too," she said just as he leaned in and kissed her again.

And for the first time in a long time, she felt truly happy.


	2. Chapter 2

2

_A week later_

It was funny how after just a week it now felt so strange being apart from her. It was his scheduled day with Eli and she had refused to join them, not wanting to interrupt his precious time with his son. He had suggested he come back over to her place after he dropped Eli off, but she had told him she was looking forward to a night in front of the TV by herself. Even though he was fully aware that she was the most independent person he knew, he still couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. He wouldn't push her though. Over the many years of their partnership he had stood by and watched as every single one of her relationships disintegrated each time the poor guy got a bit too close and he couldn't help wondering now if he would be next in line. He readily admitted to himself that the divorce had completely knocked his confidence. He now lived with the depressing reality that love wasn't always forever and that things sometimes could go wrong. The intensity of his feelings towards Olivia were like nothing he had ever felt before and he knew he would never be able to survive losing her now.

The last week was a blur. He hadn't had so much sex since he was a teenager. He wanted to explore every single part of her, find out exactly what made her tick and he loved that she obviously felt the same. There were things they did he would have never even dared mention as a possibility with Kathy. He had always liked to imagine that Olivia would be a force to be reckoned with between the sheets, but he had fully expected that in reality it would take time for them to grow comfortable with each other physically. He was ecstatic when he found that in fact she was completely at ease with him and was willing to shake things up and try pretty much all the things he had fantasised about over the years, while watching her from behind his desk. He had known at the time that it was probably highly inappropriate to be thinking such things about his then partner, not least due to the fact he was a married man, but at the same time he hadn't been able to stop himself. She was the most fascinating, sexy, beautiful woman he had ever known. He sometimes wondered when he would wake up from the dream.

He was thoroughly exhausted. In retrospect it was probably a good thing that they were sleeping apart tonight, for when together, sleeping was the last thing on either of their minds.

His thoughts were interrupted by the familiar shrill tone of his phone. Assuming it to be her, he answered eagerly without even checking the number.

"Hey, sexy," he mumbled, lowering his voice the way she had told him she liked it.

"Hey, Elliot," came the grating voice of the woman who in some ways he was grateful to for providing the huge nudge he had needed to finally go to Olivia and tell her how he felt.

"Mimi!" he groaned, wishing fervently he had checked the caller ID before answering. His mood immediately soured. He had no idea why she would be calling after the way he had dumped her. She should have more pride and have told him to go to hell. He knew he had been a complete bastard and any woman deserved better. It was for this reason that he didn't hang up straight away and instead decided he would allow her to say whatever it was she wanted to say.

"How are you?" she asked, her casual attempt at conversation making him feel more and more shitty.

"Er, not bad," he stammered. "You?"

"Same," she replied. "Look, I left a sweater, and so I was wondering if now would be a good time to come and pick it up?"

"Now? Erm, I'm not sure Mimi. It's a bit late."

He winced at the silence on the other end, interrupted by a sniffle. Shit was she crying? This was the last thing he needed. The guilt was now gnawing at him relentlessly, so he caved.

"OK, sure. Now is fine."

"Really?" she asked, her tone once again bubbly, almost excited. He instantly worried he was making a huge mistake. It would be OK though. He'd return the sweater, apologise once again and send her on her way. Hopefully she wouldn't need to contact him again after this. It would be much better to return it now, rather than drag it out and her inevitable visit be a cloud hanging over him.

"Sure," he said trying to hide his discomfort and make himself sound as normal as he could.

"I'll be right over!" With that she hung up. Elliot stared at the phone for a few seconds as he took in the fact that she was really coming. The thought of seeing Mimi again reinforced just how much he was missing Olivia tonight. He stood and hunted around for Mimi's sweater, finding it folded up on one of the dining table chairs. Once again he wondered why on earth he had gone anywhere near the young woman. Even the scent on her sweater reminded him just how big a mistake he had made. The only person he had ever really loved was Olivia. She was everything. Regrettably, he realised Mimi meant absolutely nothing to him and he hated himself for having been so shallow and for heartlessly leading her on like he had. Still she had to share some blame in this. Why she wanted to be with a man almost twice her age, he couldn't fathom.

…

Fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang and he answered, intending to hand over her sweater without her needing to set foot inside his apartment. When she realised his intent, however, she promptly burst into tears, causing him to look uncomfortably up and down the corridor, worried his neighbours would hear the commotion and wonder what on earth he had done to the poor woman. Seeing no other choice he pulled her inside and closed the door. Mimi sniffed and to his surprise headed straight over to his couch where she perched herself down. Now this was awkward. She didn't look like she intended this to be just a flying visit.

"Look, Mimi, I'm really sorry about everything. I really am. I know I am a total bastard."

"Do you have any beer?" she asked.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he started, but she was already on her feet heading towards the fridge. He sighed. One beer, he told himself, let her talk and get it out and then he would insist more strongly that she leave. He glanced at his phone, wondering if Olivia would call him, feeling slightly awkward knowing that she would be more than a little upset if she knew he had his ex in his apartment alone with him right now. Not that she had anything at all to worry about. Olivia was the only woman on his mind.

"You want one?" Mimi asked.

He accepted. The truth was he felt he needed something a lot stronger than a simple beer.

He sat down on the armchair, deciding not to risk the sofa and the potential for her to try and cosy up to him and a minute later she came over and handed him his beer. She perched on the arm of the chair and he leaned as far away as he could get. He knew for certain now that letting her in had been a huge mistake, but he was unsure how to go about rectifying it peacefully with as few tears as possible. Emotional women weren't his forte. Olivia had always been so much better with the victims. He smiled to himself. She would know what to say to Mimi.

He took a long swig on his beer awkwardly, as he could see Mimi staring at him intently as he drank. It took him a second to recognise the ringing phone was his. Before he could reach for it, as quick as lightening, Mimi grabbed it and put it to her ear, drawling a hello with as innocent an air as she could.

"Sure," she said a perverse grin now plastered over her face. "Here he is." She handed him the phone and his heart sank as he realised it was Olivia.

"Liv!" he said anxiously. "I was going to call you."

"Really?" she said icily.

"Yes, erm…"

"So Mimi is there?" She came straight to the point.

"Yes, she er, left her sweater and came to pick it up. She's just leaving actually." He glared at his uninvited guest as he spoke, but she just smirked back at him infuriatingly. She looked like she was enjoying this immensely. Elliot could have kicked himself. He was such an idiot!

"Liv, this isn't what it sounds like," he said feebly.

"Whatever," she replied, her tone suddenly lightening considerably. He paused, confused, unsure exactly what this change in tactic meant. "I trust you," she continued. "If you say that's what's going on, I believe you."

"You do?" He hardly dared to believe she was just going to let this go. Kathy would have skinned him alive. It was another reminder that Olivia was nothing like his ex-wife.

"Of course," she replied. "Have a good evening, ok?"

"Er, yeah. Look, I'll call you back later."

"Sure. Bye El."

He ended the call. Had that really just happened? She trusted him. His respect for her jumped several notches. She was truly the most amazing person he knew.

He took another swig of his beer as he braced himself for the task ahead. He had to get Mimi out of his apartment as soon as possible and then call Olivia back. Maybe he could even convince her to let him come over after all. His eyelids were suddenly so heavy though. He hadn't realised just how tired he was. The thought of going to bed suddenly seemed terribly appealing. As he looked up, he realised the room was spinning slightly. That beer must have gone straight to his head, he thought drowsily.

He was barely aware of Mimi grasping his arm and leading him to the bedroom.

…

The first thing he was aware of was the pain in his head. The second was that he was stark naked. He looked down at his body in horror. He had absolutely no recollection of going to bed and sleeping in the nude wasn't one of his usual preferred activities, or at least not when he was on his own anyway. He sat up groggily. He only remembered having one beer. One beer shouldn't have messed him up this bad. Then he remembered Mimi. Where on earth was she? Then the fear hit him. Had they…? Was that why he was naked? Oh God, what had he done? He felt worse than awful. In fact he felt like he was going to be sick? Had she planned this the whole time? Had she planned on getting him drunk and seducing him? Or had she slipped something into his drink? That would explain the complete loss of memory. He realised she must have done!

He looked at his watch. It was nearly eleven already. Olivia had a day off today and they were supposed to be spending it together and he had spent most of the morning in bed. He felt truly awful. How could he have done this to her? She would be completely heartbroken if she ever found out, even if Mimi had drugged him. After all he had let her into his apartment and willingly shared a beer with her. He should have told her where to go right at the start. And talking about Mimi, where was she? Had she left or was she still around somewhere? He felt like a complete idiot. Why hadn't he seen something like this coming? He should have known she wouldn't have taken the humiliation of being dumped like that lightly.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, intending to quickly sweep the apartment to make sure she wasn't still around before heading towards the shower. To his relief there was no sign of her and he hoped that was the last he would ever see of her. He would go round to Olivia's as soon as he was washed and dressed. He briefly wondered if he should tell her what had happened, but the thought filled him with a dread such as he had never felt before in his life. No, he decided. This would be something he would be better keeping to himself. There was no way he was going to risk what they had. He didn't remember anything anyway. Maybe nothing had even happened? He suddenly felt desperate to see her. This time there was no way he would leave her side again. She would just have to get used to having him there permanently, because that was where he belonged. Of that he was now certain more than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

3

_Four days later_

Elliot turned the key in his lock, smiling as he contentedly remembered what he had been doing just a couple of hours ago. She was truly amazing. Every time their bodies came in contact he could hardly believe this was his new reality. It was a cliché, but when they were snuggled up together, naked, there was no place he would rather be. He couldn't really understand why they hadn't reached this point a lot earlier. It was as though they belonged together. The way she ran her hands over his skin, moved her mouth along his body, took him in and claimed him as her own, was the most exquisite feeling and he loved it. He loved the way she was so open about what she wanted from him in the bedroom and he reacted the same way. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that they had the shared experience of witnessing the worst kinds of depravity possible to man and that maybe there was no part of themselves that they needed to hold back as they already knew each other inside out emotionally. Moving it to the physical level was perhaps just the next step.

He had just popped home to pick up some more clothes and check his mail box. He was clutching some letters and a larger brown envelope under his arm that he had picked up downstairs just a minute ago and as soon as he stepped inside his apartment he slung them down on the side, heading straight towards the bedroom to grab his clothes, wanting to hurry back to her as soon as he could. Once he returned to the hallway he quickly sifted through the letters, separating the bills from the junk mail and was left with just the large brown envelope which was puzzling as it had no return address and no indication of what it could be relating to.

He ripped into it curiously, a gasp of horror escaping his lips as several shocking photos fell out. He felt sick to the stomach as he realised they were of him, obviously taken that night four days ago. Mimi must have taken them while he was unconscious. The photos were of him naked and there were several of both him and her lying together in compromising and highly suggestive positions. He assumed she must have set the timer on the camera for these photos, as the possibility there might have been someone else there wasn't something he wanted to seriously consider at this point. He was devastated that he had put himself in this situation. He couldn't remember anything at all and so he wasn't sure exactly what had happened. Had he had sex with her before he passed out and just couldn't remember it or had she just made it look like he had for some reason, maybe payback? Not knowing was agonising. He hoped he hadn't slept with her, but whatever had happened, these photos didn't look innocent. If Olivia saw them… well it would be bound to hurt her immensely. What if she decided she could no longer trust him on the basis of these pictures and ended it? He was almost surprised at how much that thought enveloped him in a real all-consuming fear.

As he fingered through the photos once again, he realised that he had missed the note the first time he had looked through them. He took it now and started to read nervously.

_Dear Elliot, _

_ Thanks for an amazing night. I have copies should anyone want to see… just let me know. I'll call you!_

_ Mimi. _

Elliot shuddered, wondering if this was what it sounded like. Was it some kind of attempt at blackmail? He had absolutely no idea what the motive could possibly be, so much so that he almost dismissed the idea completely as being far too far-fetched, a remnant of his police days where the worst-case scenario was the norm. However, he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling that there was something sinister going on here and he had fallen into some kind of trap, the nature of which he had no understanding of. It was a helpless feeling.

He reached into his back pocket and withdrew his phone. He needed answers. He brought up her number, cringing at the thought of hearing her voice again and he dialled, pausing for just a few seconds to take a deep breath before he pressed the make call button. He gritted his teeth, desperately trying to control his anger, so that when he heard the shrill innocent-sounding, "hello" he managed to reply in a relatively normal and calm tone, knowing that if he was dealing with some kind of blackmail attempt, antagonising her would hardly be helpful.

"Hi Mimi," he said, trying to sound as friendly as he could. "I got your envelope."

"Oh, great," she replied lightly. "So did you like the contents?"

He felt his stomach clench in irritation at her deliberate teasing.

"I was a little confused by the note," he replied. "I was hoping you could explain."

"I'm not sure it's a matter we should discuss over the phone," she replied. "I know how you people work."

Warning bells went off in his head at her words. He hadn't been seeing her that long and he had never mentioned that he had been a former detective with the NYPD. It seemed she knew a lot more about him than he did about her and it wasn't a situation he enjoyed.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we," he said impatiently. "What do you want?"

"Oh no," she laughed. "Meet me where we met in Central Park that time and I'll reveal all then."

"When?" he asked, forcing back his growing anger and trying to keep his voice even.

"In an hour," she replied. "Oh and Elliot, come alone. No one else needs to be involved. If things go well, there's nothing to worry about. I won't be asking for anything too out-there, I promise."

He grimaced as she chuckled, knowing now that it was definitely some kind of an attempt at blackmail and wondering once again what on earth he had been thinking to go anywhere near this woman in the first place.

With the call over, he sank down into an armchair, clutching the photos, wondering what on earth this was really all about. The only person who would be potentially upset about these photos was Olivia, but when he had started seeing Mimi, she hadn't even known Olivia existed. Unless…. Come to think of it, she seemed to know more about him than he thought. Maybe she knew them both? Maybe she knew they were work colleagues? It still didn't make much sense though, for he and Olivia weren't even an item them and in fact had been out of contact for several months. Unless the photos were an after thought: a revised plan? The question then was what was her original intent? It was a mystery. The only way he would get closer to finding out was first of all going along to the park and meeting with her and hearing what she had to say.

He quickly tapped out a message to Olivia who was waiting for him back at her place, letting her know that he just had a bit of urgent correspondence to deal with which might take a while but he would be there as soon as he could. Then he set off reluctantly for Central Park.

…

He spotted her immediately. Her make-up, immaculate as usual, accentuated her eyes, which seemed almost as if they were somehow harder and colder than before. He knew it was surely his imagination, but the thought of being manipulated by someone like her made him furious. He noted that instead of her more usual casual attire, she had on a suit this time, although the skirt was so short, it was hardly the sort of thing you would reasonably expect to see in a regular workplace. Her legs were the kind that could get away with it though. Even in this situation he had to admit she looked good. It certainly hadn't been his radar for physical attractiveness that had been off when he had allowed himself to be seduced by her. Not that she had anything on Olivia, he thought quickly, once again remembering her legs wrapped around him, her mouth on his neck. He felt himself growing hard just at the thought and forced his thoughts elsewhere. This was not the time.

"Hi, Elliot," Mimi drawled, stepping over towards him and leaning in for a hug. He stepped back, glaring at her, incensed by her audacity.

"Cut the crap, Mimi," he spat. "What do you want? Did you bring the originals?"

"All in good time, _Elliot_," she replied, clearly enjoying the situation. He hated the way she said his name. It made him want to punch something. His fists clenched and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to try and calm down as he'd been shown by more than one counsellor in the past who had attempted to guide him towards healthy ways in dealing with his freely admitted anger issues.

"Fine," she muttered, looking disappointed. "Business it is. Do you remember Christopher Mason? You arrested him about fifteen months ago for various charges, including attempted rape of his secretary, Mariann Knowles."

Elliot racked his brains trying to remember one of the many cases he had worked on at the SVU. His life before leaving the unit was almost like a huge blur now and he struggled to remember. There were some cases you just never forgot, but this one didn't seem to ring any bells. Maybe it was just too run-of-the-mill to stand out from any of the others, he thought sadly, hating that any sex-related crime could be considered "run-of-the-mill".

"You actually don't remember, do you?" Mimi shook her head in disbelief, her anger apparent in her steely glare.

"I'm sorry, I worked so many cases…" he admitted.

"Well this woman lied," she said angrily. "Chris never did any of the stuff she said he did and yet you pricks believed her and he's locked up awaiting trial."

"Christopher Mason, you said?" Elliot repeated, hoping that saying the name out loud again might jog his memory.

"That's what I said," Mimi replied coldly. "It doesn't matter if you remember now anyway, I'm sure it'll come back to you later. Anyway, what I want is for you to talk to Mariann Knowles and get her to revoke her statement. In return I will destroy all the photos. If you don't I will send them to whoever I think might appreciate seeing them, including your dear Olivia."

"So this is blackmail?" he asked scathingly.

"You bet it is," she replied.

"I should have you arrested along with him," he growled.

"Feel free. Just be aware that I have a friend keeping an eye on a copy of those photos all ready to be sent out to your _girlfriend _should anything of that nature occur and I've been assured of hand delivery. I'm sure _Olivia_ would love to see what you were up to just a few days ago. All photos are date stamped too by the way."

"This is ridiculous," Elliot replied. "I left the force months ago. I have absolutely no influence any more. What do you really expect me to do?"

"Oh come off it Elliot," Mimi replied. "You still have your foot in the door, ties that will never be broken. There are ways. I'm not asking for much. It's not like he's a threat to anyone. He's an innocent man, wrongly accused. He doesn't deserve to be locked away for a crime he didn't commit."

Elliot looked at Mimi. Did she really believe this guy was innocent or was it all an act, like everything with her had been thus far? He cursed a universe that could make an arrest he had made over a year ago come back to haunt him now, at a time he thought he had put the job completely behind him.

"I'll call you," said Mimi, who had obviously decided their meeting was over for now. "Don't think I won't act though, Elliot. It may be something you live to regret."

He wanted to laugh at her bare-faced threat but there was a dangerous glint in her eye that told him she was completely serious and so he held back. The sensible thing to do would be to go away and find out the exact details of the case she was referring to and then decide what to do once he had all the facts in front of him. Maybe this guy Christopher Mason really was innocent? It was always possible. If he wasn't though, participating in the release of a potential rapist was not something he was sure he could live with. The thought of Olivia seeing those photos however, turned his stomach. What if it proved fatal to their relationship? Even the mere idea was devastating.

He turned away and walked back towards where he had parked his car. He needed to speak to Fin and see if he could shed some light on the situation, somehow without causing suspicion. Of course the best person to ask would be Olivia, but the last thing he wanted to do was to get her involved. Beside, he couldn't betray her privacy by admitting to her colleagues that they were now an item. That needed to be done on her terms. He knew she was extremely private about her relationships and wouldn't take kindly to being the focus of any gossip and the pair of them getting together would certainly be headline news down at the precinct. Not to mention the fact that he was also pretty embarrassed about the photos and the situation he had allowed himself to get into for them to have been taken in the first place. No, first he definitely needed to get the facts, get the whole situation sussed and then he could come up with a plan of action.

He hated himself for being such an idiot. Olivia was one of the best things that had ever happened to him and now it was potentially all at risk. Why was his life such a fuck-up?


	4. Chapter 4

４

He almost regretting calling Fin. He had forgotten just how protective he was over Olivia and as far as Fin was concerned Elliot had treated her badly the way he had just upped and left out of the blue like that. He was incidentally also not one of those people who hid his feelings well. Elliot's initial instinct had been to rise to his own defence, but he had to reluctantly acknowledge that he actually deserved everything Fin said, so for once he just quietly accepted it. His complete lack of retaliation took Fin by surprise and led to him abandoning his tirade and asking why Elliot had called him in the first place.

"Look, before I ask what I'm calling about, I just want to say that I agree with you. I was an idiot and she didn't deserve to be treated like that. I can assure you I will thoroughly make it up to her."

"You've seen her?" Fin asked suddenly.

"Yes. We've talked. I've apologised and she understands."

"Oh." Fin seemed slightly appeased, although still wary. "So what did you want anyway?"

"Well it's nothing important, just I met someone the other day who asked me about a case I worked and which I have completely forgotten. It's been bugging me ever since and so I was hoping you could jog my memory."

"Doesn't Liv remember?" Fin asked puzzled.

"I guess she might. I just didn't want to bother her with mundane work questions after we've only just got back on speaking terms."

Fin shrugged, not really understanding what the big deal would be to have asked Olivia, but too caught up in other things to want to really give it much attention.

"Fine, what case? I'll see if I remember."

"Christopher Mason. Does that name ring a bell?"

"Yes, I know that case. He was brought in for the attempted rape of his secretary and she also provided testimony for a wealth of other charges, including internet fraud, selling pharmaceuticals illegally over the internet and tax evasion amongst other things. She was offered immunity for her own part in everything for her testimony. The trial is coming up soon and I'm due to appear. You were the arresting officer, but I conducted the interviews, which probably explains why you don't remember. Who was asking you anyway?"

"A woman recognised me in the park," Elliot replied quickly, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt. "It was a bit awkward actually, as she obviously knew me. I didn't want to admit I didn't have a clue who she was. I thought I could check with you or someone else later."

"Right," said Fin. "Well if that's all, you know, it's good to hear from you, but I've got a lot on today. Maybe you can come in and visit us some time and we can arrange to go out for a drink and catch up or something?"

"Yeah, sounds good," replied Elliot, relieved the conversation was ending so easily and quickly. "I'll get in touch soon."

They said their goodbyes and the call ended, leaving Elliot with a vague recollection of having heard the details of this case before, but he still couldn't really put faces to the names. He certainly didn't remember a Mimi and Fin hadn't mentioned one either. Maybe it was a fake name though, like everything else about her?

Elliot sighed. He had taken several hours longer than he had intended and Olivia would probably be wondering exactly what correspondence it was that was taking so long. He had to head over there, but it was with a heavy heart. He was left with the choice of either helping a criminal go free or potentially ruining his relationship with the person he cared about most in the world. Neither option was particularly desirable.

As far as he could see it, he was left with only one choice.

…

He rang the doorbell and waited for her to buzz him up. When he reached her apartment the door was slightly ajar, so he pushed it open and slipped inside, immediately spotting her in the kitchen. It was also rather disconcerting to see she had an apron around her waist and was obviously attempting to make something. To the best of his knowledge she lived on take-outs and rarely cooked. He smiled to himself as he realised she was probably making the effort specially for him, although he couldn't help feeling slightly nervous about what experimental new recipe he would be forced to be guinea pig for.

"Hey, Liv," he said, sliding up to her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her eagerly on the lips.

"Hang on," she said, sounding more flustered than usual. "I have to put this in now or else everything will be ruined!" He stepped back a little and watched her as she placed a dish in the oven, although to be more accurate he watched her ass as she bent over and he was able to catch a glimpse of her underwear peeking out from the waist band of her jeans.

Once she stood back upright and removed the apron, he once again leaned in for a kiss which this time she returned equally enthusiastically.

"I missed you," he said, nuzzling into her neck slightly.

"You must have had lots of correspondence," she commented.

"Yeah, well actually something came up. Liv, how long do we have before this is ready? There's something I need to talk to you about and it's important."

He watched her expression cloud as she wondered what had made him so serious.

"It should take about 35 minutes or so," she said, looking at him nervously. "El, tell me, have you changed your mind, about us?" She looked down as she said it and he could see the anguish in her expression as she entertained the idea.

"No, NO. No way!" he replied fervently. "I have never been so sure about anything in my life than I am about you, Liv… However, I'm not sure if you will feel the same way about me after I tell you about this."

She looked at him curiously, a worried expression etched onto her face. He hated himself for doing this to her. Maybe he shouldn't go through with it? He could make something up now and just do what Mimi asked of him…. but he knew he couldn't. No telling her was the only way. With any luck she would accept his side of the story and forgive him for letting Mimi inside his apartment like that and then Mimi would have nothing over him. With Olivia's blessing to reveal their relationship, he could report the attempted blackmail and make sure that precautions were taken to make sure no one else could get to Mariann Knowles, before or during the trial. Problem solved.

He led Olivia to the couch, sat her down, considered taking her hand, but decided he couldn't look her in the face. He was terrified, but seeing no other option he shakily started to explain everything

…

He could feel her gaze on him as he told her everything, but she didn't say a word. He finally finished, surprised not to have been interrupted even once. Still she was silent. He raised his head slightly to look at her and could tell she was struggling to take in what he was saying. His heart felt like it had dropped into his stomach and he was cursing himself for being a prize idiot and messing up everything with her. He could feel his eyes were damp but he didn't care. This wasn't about being the man and pretending he had no feelings, this was his life falling apart in front of eyes. Or at least the life he had hoped for anyway. If that didn't deserve a damp eye, then he had no idea what did.

"Maybe I should leave?" he suggested miserably. No doubt she would need time to process everything he had just told her.

To his surprise though, she shook her head.

"No, Elliot, stay."

"You want me to stay?" he echoed back to her.

She nodded.

He felt awkward. He wanted to take her into his arms, promise her it had all been a big mistake, that nothing like this would ever happen again, that he would never leave her side and get himself in any situation like that again.

"You don't remember anything?" she asked slowly.

"No," he shook his head ashamedly.

"She must have set this all up," she concluded. "It was always about Mason."

"I agree," he said, once again the embarrassment at having been sucked into this so easily, threatening to overwhelm him. "I'm so sorry, Liv," he repeated.

"Maybe nothing happened?" she said, ignoring his apology. "She just wanted it to look like something did, to use against you. In any case if you had been drugged, you weren't a willing participant. It would have been rape, El."

He cringed. Rape? Him? But she was right. Sex against his will technically came into that category. Only to him it felt like a very grey area, given that only a couple of weeks ago it had been pretty willing on his part.

"El, this isn't your fault. I just want to thank you for being so honest with me. I can see how much this is hurting you. I can see it in your eyes."

"You… you forgive me?" he asked in amazement.

"Yes, although I don't think there is anything to forgive. She manipulated you and took advantage of you."

"Oh Liv, I love you so much, if only you knew."

She just stared at him, her beautiful brown eyes wide; a slightly embarrassed smile on her face. He knew she still found his professions of love difficult to accept. It wasn't something she was used to, but he intended to change that.

"I love you!" he repeated. He saw the tears forming in her eyes, threatening to fall and he could no longer hold back. He took her in his arms and held her and gazing right into her eyes he told her again.

"I love you too," she whispered awkwardly and he leaned in then, pressing his lips against hers, his kiss turning urgent as the feeling of needing to be close to her overwhelmed him. She returned the kiss just as passionately and they found themselves ripping at each others clothes desperately. With a silent understanding they stood and moved towards the bedroom, where they fell onto the bed, wrapped in each others arms. He moved downwards, kissing her neck, his hands gently squeezing her breasts. He knew this was going to be fast. He was so hard already. Deciding they could always take their time next time, he moved his hands downwards, between her legs and immediately discovered she was just as eager as he was. So much for foreplay! He had to be inside her now. It was like a primal urge he had no control over.

He manoeuvred himself, groaning with pleasure as he felt her tight around him. Letting the sensations of pleasure take over, he thrust hard inside her, his hand pressing and rubbing her most sensitive area, wanting to bring her to the edge with him so they could topple over together. He listening to her breathing, her low moans and adjusted his own speed to slow down a little until she was closer. Then he heard her breathing growing heavier, her grip tightening on his back, her own rocking increasing and he let himself go. He pummelled into her and within a few thrusts he shuddered as the waves hit. He realised she had been close enough behind that it had been almost simultaneous. They held each other tightly as they both rocked more gently now, waiting for their orgasms to subside.

He rolled off her, still holding her in his arms and kissed her again.

"I love you so much," he repeated.

"Me too," she smiled back, kissing him on the nose. They lay like that, happily wrapped in each other's arms.

After a short while, still restless, she took his hand and guided him back to her. Understanding her want, he started stroking her again. Taking his time, he watched her face intently, taking in every expression, using it to help guide him to what was working and what wasn't. After a while he pushed a couple of his fingers inside her as he pressed and circled higher up with his thumb. He felt her squirming and knew she was close. It was a wonderful feeling knowing that she was reacting so strongly to his touch. He could feel himself growing hard again, surprised at how soon he was ready.

He slid back on top of her and pushed back inside her smoothly. Then, still inside her, he rolled her over on to her stomach so that he was now at a completely new angle and using the new position to his advantage he brought his fingers to her and started massaging her relentlessly as he thrust inside her. Within seconds, overwhelmed by the novelty of the sensations of the new position, she peaked once more, this time with more intensity than earlier. After a minute to catch her breath, she rolled back over on to her back and he began to thrust again, harder and harder, losing himself in his second orgasm within minutes.

He collapsed on top of her and then rolled off her onto his side, closing his eyes, momentarily spent, but deliriously happy.

They lay like that for a while, before she spoke.

"You can tell that bitch there is no way you are talking to Mariann Knowles," she said, "because your girlfriend doesn't care about the photos. In fact ask her for some copies as I wouldn't mind a few to keep in my wallet."

"Liv!" he grinned, feigning shock at feisty attitude, but secretly pleased.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing… just… thank you for trusting me," he said seriously.

"Goes without saying, Stabler," she said. "We're partners, right?"

He looked at her. That was one way of describing their relationship, but it went so much deeper than that.

"No," he said, a little self-conscious now. "We're soul mates!"

"Shit!" she suddenly shouted, leaping to her feet. He stared at her in shock. That wasn't exactly the response he had been hoping for.

"I forgot the food in the oven!" she yelled as she ran from the room in a vain attempt to salvage the no doubt ruined meal.


	5. Chapter 5

**Just a reminder... this is an M rated story... this chapter might be disturbing to some readers. (Violence)**

5

_Two days later, 3:14am_

Elliot felt something hard suddenly press into his temple and he opened his eyes with a start. The grogginess from being woken up in the middle of the night disappeared immediately, as he took in the masked figure holding the gun to his head. His brain could hardly comprehend the situation. In those initial seconds he was too shocked to feel any fear, but that quickly changed when he glanced sideways and saw Olivia still sleeping peacefully beside him. The thought of her coming to any harm was absolutely more distressing than the thought of anything happening to him. He had to stay focused though. He needed to find a way out of this situation and fast.

The guy signalled for him to get up and gingerly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The gun was still pressed hard against his head. He considered attempting to slip free and wrestling the guy to the floor, but he looked of similar size and so he wasn't convinced he would necessarily come out stronger. It would be better to wait for an advantage and make his move then. He didn't want to risk the gun going off randomly either, certainly not with Olivia in the room. Despite his initial instinct to want to prevent her from having any part in this, he realised he needed her awake. Perhaps between the two of them, they could fight this guy off.

"What do you want?" he asked as loudly as he could, knowing that the sound of his voice would wake her. She stirred immediately, her eyes widening with confusion as she took in the unexpected scene. She stared right at him and he knew she wanted answers, an explanation as to what the hell was going on, but he didn't have any. He just returned her look, as flummoxed as she was.

"Move and he's dead!" warned the assailant. His voice was hard, devoid of emotion and gave them both the impression that he was here to do whatever it was he planned to do with no intention of straying from his goal even the slightest bit. Olivia shivered involuntarily. She had come across many kinds of unsavoury characters during her years as a detective, but it was the cold emotionless ones that really got to her. She had seen too much to be able to just tell herself in a situation such as this, that everything would likely be fine. She was the one who was called to the scene when it wasn't fine after all. It wasn't her imagination that created her worst nightmares. It was her reality.

She paused, undecided. Her firearm was in the top drawer of the dresser and it was less than two metres away. She contemplated making a dash for it, but she knew all too well that the man with the gun to Elliot's head could easily shoot them both before she even got halfway across the room. She felt the adrenaline coursing through her body. Fight or flight. She knew her instinct was to fight, but she forced herself not to react impulsively and instead took a deep breath and looked at the stranger questioningly.

"What do you want?" she asked steadily, trying to will the nerves away.

The man reached into his pocket and produced a pair of plasticuffs and handed them to Elliot.

"Put these on," he barked. Olivia watched helplessly as, seeing no other option under the circumstances, Elliot slipped his hands in the loops and pulled them tight with his teeth. At this point they both assumed they were dealing with a robbery gone wrong and in all likelihood once they were deemed no longer a threat, the gunman would take what he wanted and leave. She watched as he released his grip on Elliot and instructed him to stand over by the wall and not to move or else he would shoot. Elliot moved over slowly. She knew he was desperately racking his brains for an escape out of this situation but everything was happening way too fast. There was no time to think. Before either knew what was happening, the guy had produced another pair of cuffs, linked them through the first pair and tied Elliot's wrists to the radiator.

"What is it you want?" Elliot asked through gritted teeth, knowing that he was completely trapped now, unable to do anything. Partly he was hoping to distract him enough so that Olivia could reach her weapon, but the guy was good. He never kept his eyes off her as he uttered his sickening reply.

"Her," he said simply, with a slight sneer, turning the robbery theory on its head. Elliot felt his whole body grow cold as the fear gripped him. He started to struggle against the restraints. He needed to get free now. They were both aware that some things were worse than death and suddenly the thought of this guy doing anything to Olivia seemed to fit right into that category. It was now vital that he stopped this guy from leaving with her. If he managed to get away with her, then that was it. Anything could happen to her and he couldn't let that happen. He cursed himself for not putting up more of a fight.

The man sensed Elliot's new found resolve and he suddenly lashed out, hitting him hard on the side of his head with the gun. Elliot felt the sticky wet sensation of what he knew must be blood and groaned as the pain hit him hard.

"No!" he heard Olivia shout. He was kind of aware that she had launched herself at the guy, although he was feeling somewhat dizzy, almost like he was seeing the world through an opaque window or something. He wanted to shout at her, tell her not to risk anything for him, just get herself away at all costs, but at the same time he was so damn proud of her. She would never just sit back and allow herself to be taken. She would fight all the way. It was the Olivia he had known all these years and the Olivia he had fallen in love with.

The shot went off and he froze horrified. For a few seconds his world came crashing down as surely the noise of the shot ringing in his ears could only have meant one thing, but he quickly realised she wasn't hit but that there was now a hole in the wall literally two inches from her head. Either he was a bad shot or an extremely good one. Either way it wasn't good considering he still had a loaded gun in his hand. Olivia was temporarily frozen in terror at the near miss and the guy used her hesitation to step forward and now place the gun to her temple.

"Please stop this," yelled Elliot, his own voice causing him to wince due to the increasing pain of his headache.

"Put your hands behind your back!" the man told Olivia, ignoring Elliot.

"Please," she said. "We're cops. This won't end well. Let us go."

The man struck her then, hitting her face hard. She placed her hand to her mouth, feeling the blood from her now split lip. Tears came to her eyes from the pain and she blinked them back furiously. She stepped back and then swung at the guy, raising her leg and kneeing him hard in the stomach. He lost his balance slightly, but he regained it quickly and struck her again hard, this time causing her to fall down onto the bed onto her side. He immediately leapt on top of her, grasping her arms and forcing them behind her back. She yelped in pain. She was unable to wriggle free due to the weight of him on her, but it didn't prevent her from struggling.

Elliot pulled even harder on his restraints, so that they started digging into his skin. He saw the gun was on the back of her head now.

"I am deadly serious," he growled. "I will shoot!"

Elliot stopped struggling and simply watched in disbelief as the guy produced a pair of metal handcuffs this time and clicked them expertly on to her wrists behind her back. Then he delved into his shoulder bag and produced some more items. He watched in absolute horror as the guy started to slip some leather straps on to her elbows, pinning her arms tightly behind her back in an uncomfortable elbow hold. He knew it was a recognised bondage technique which rendered the captive's arms effectively useless, as it held the wrists tightly together and also stopped the person potentially bringing their hands to the front by manoeuvring the bound wrists over the feet. Elliot was almost frantic now. They were either dealing with a very thorough kidnapper or an expert in questionable sexual practices and he desperately hoped it was the former.

He continued to watch helplessly as the man then proceeded to tape her mouth from ear to ear. He winced as he imagined the pain she would experience on removal of her gag, especially with a split lip. He silently willed her to stay calm and not to panic. With her mouth covered it was vital she protect her airway. Then the guy wrapped a large shawl around her head, covering most of her face before covering the rest of her body with a blanket. To anyone outside it would be almost impossible to tell she was bound underneath, not to mention the fact that it was the early hours of the morning and still dark outside. Elliot knew then that this guy would succeed in taking her with him. He strained once again against his cuffs, but the guy had now pulled her to her feet and was leading her out of the room.

"Say bye," he said nastily, spinning her round just so Elliot could see the sheer terror in her eyes. It was an expression he knew he would never forget as long as he lived. Her eyes were begging him to help her, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. It was the most helpless feeling he'd ever experienced. His eyes involuntarily filled with tears as he berated himself again for not being able to protect her and stop this. He was petrified as his mind went back to some of the more sadistic cases they had worked and he feared something similar for her.

"I love you, Liv," he wanted to scream, but the words wouldn't come out. He could only watch transfixed as the guy led her from the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Another warning... adult themes explored in this chapter.**

6

_4:52_

He rested against the wall, too numb to even really feel the pain in his wrists. As soon as they had left he had pulled with all his strength on the restraints, but it had been to no avail. He hadn't been able to free himself and instead he remained there tied to the radiator, unable to even raise the alarm, just left to imagine all the terrible things that the guy could be doing to her right now. His heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. He was completely devastated. He kept seeing that harrowed look in her eye just before she had left, her eyes pleading with him, begging him to help her. He knew he would never forgive himself for not being able to protect her. She deserved that much from him. He felt completely inadequate and like he had failed her unforgivably. For he knew she could be dead already. Even the mere thought threatened to send him cascading into the depths of despair, such as he had never known before. Devastated didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling right now.

He had tried shouting, but no one had seemed to hear. He had tried kicking at the radiator in a futile attempt to knock it off the wall or something. He had tried ripping at the plastic cuffs with his teeth. Nothing worked. In desperation he had closed his eyes and banged his head back hard against the wall, trying to convince himself that she would be ok; that she would somehow escape by her own resourcefulness and come back to rescue him. Not that the idea of that wasn't disturbing in its own way, for he felt he should have been the one to save her, not the other way round. However, if it meant she was safe he would be willing to accept any humiliation, including having her return to find him still tied to the radiator, floundering and useless.

She must be terrified. He knew her well enough to know that her tough bad-ass cop image was a front. Not that she wasn't one of the bravest people he knew, it was just that he knew all too well just how human she was underneath all that. Forcibly restrained and taken from her own bedroom in front of her lover to goodness knows what fate, would be horrifying enough for anyone. Add to that the fact that it wasn't the first time her life or physical safety had been threatened and the fact that she had enough experience to imagine herself up a destiny probably a billion times worse than her actual reality and he knew this would be thoroughly horrifying for her. There was only so much a person could take after all.

The sound of someone approaching the door of her apartment brought his thoughts back to his vision of her escaping her captor and rushing back to him, to no doubt tease him a little for not managing to get himself out of his own predicament. He felt a genuine tinge of excitement stirring deep inside as he wondered if it really might be her. He had no idea who else might turn up for a visit at this time in the morning, so it seemed a reasonable assumption. He watched the door eagerly but as soon as he recognised the figure entering the room his hopeful expression turned into an angry scowl.

"_You're_ behind this?" he spat, as the woman approached him, staying just out of range, which he had to admit was probably a sensible idea since there was nothing he would have liked more than to give her a good kick.

"Evening to you too," she replied smugly, staring at him with an obvious look of contempt on her face.

"You let her go!" he growled at her. "If you have a beef with me, then take it out on me!" He could feel his anger growing by the second.

"Oh but I am, Elliot," she smiled infuriatingly. "There is no better motivation than saving someone you love, right? This is better than any movie." She laughed coldly. Elliot simply glared at her, amazed that she could make light of this in such a cold-hearted way.

"If you hurt her, I'll kill you," he said slowly. The words had just come out. It was only afterwards he realised he actually meant them.

"Well that's not very nice, is it," she said, starting to look a little impatient, as though she were getting bored with the whole situation really. "You know, it's simple. You know what I want you to do. Talk to Mariann Knowles, get her to retract her statement, get the case dropped and you can have your girlfriend back. Talk to your pals or fuck up in any other way and your girl will suffer."

Elliot stared at Mimi in disbelief. He still couldn't believe he had been so blind as to get completely sucked in by this woman in the first place. Now thanks to his stupidity Olivia was suffering.

In some ways it was a relief to now know the reason behind the kidnapping. Assumedly if he did what Mimi wanted, Olivia would be released. There wouldn't be any real reason to hurt her while she was in captivity, assuming she didn't fight back too much anyway. It was much better than the alternative scenario that she had been taken by a sadistic sociopath, although, admittedly, there was no guarantee that Mimi hadn't employed one.

"I want proof that she is alive and well first," he said. "Let me speak to her." It was step number one in the amateur's guide to negotiating with hostage takers. Mimi wasn't having any of it though. She just laughed at him.

"You aren't in any position to make demands," she scoffed. "You have no choice but to trust I'm telling you the truth. It's her only chance, I'm afraid. I don't have any desire to make things complicated. If you contact anyone about this, I will dispose of her. It's as simple as that. I won't take any unnecessary risks." She smirked. She was obviously enjoying this.

"I swear, if you hurt her…" he said.

She rolled her eyes infuriatingly. "Well, as nice as this is and as tempting as it is to just leave you here, you have some work to do, so here's a knife… use it wisely. I will contact you later. My advice would be to get on with your little task as soon as possible though. Speed is of the essence and Frank seemed particularly taken with her. He's quite keen to move on to the next stage of coercion, something which will occur should we feel you aren't moving quickly enough on this." She stepped back one pace and then kicked the knife towards him. Then she turned and left without another word.

He managed to get his foot on the knife and drag it to where his hands were tied to the radiator. Luckily he was able to lower his wrists down the pipe to the ground. It wasn't easy but he managed to get hold of the knife with his hands and get it into a position where he could start to cut at the plastic. He took his time as he wasn't keen on slicing into his hand in the process. Within five minutes though, he managed to cut through one of the sides of the cuffs releasing his left hand. From there it was easy to cut through the other side and he was finally free.

He rubbed his wrists and ran straight to the door, racing downstairs to see if he was in time to see any sign of Mimi. He guessed she would be long gone, but it was still worth a shot. There was no sign of her though. He returned upstairs wondering what to do. Should he contact Cragen, let him know what was going on? It seemed the sensible thing to do. Cragen would be discrete. The only thing was, Mimi seemed to be several steps ahead already. He truly believed she would make good on her threat and harm Olivia if she were forced into a corner. It was a risk he decided he wasn't willing to take. He had got Olivia into this mess and he would get her out of it. Helping a criminal go free obviously wasn't ideal, but at the end of the day it was better to let an attempted rapist go if it meant preventing a murder. Or at least he convinced himself of that.

This was different anyway. This was personal. It was easy to think you'd know what to do in this kind of situation when you were dealing with strangers, but this was Olivia. There was no way he could risk anything happening to her. She had suffered enough as it was. No, he would do what he had to do to get her back and then he would talk to Cragen, once she was safe in his arms again – assuming she would want to be there after the way he had let her down. As soon as it was a reasonable hour, he would find out exactly where this Mariann Knowles lived and pay her a visit. There was no question of it being a choice. Olivia meant everything to him.

He sank down onto an armchair. He was tired, but he felt guilty going to sleep. He wondered if Olivia would be sleeping, or was she wide awake, tied up somewhere, terrified, wondering what was in store for her? He wondered if she had been told why she had been taken or whether she had been kept in the dark, left to imagine all sorts of scenarios. This was what hurt the most, knowing that the imagination could often be worse. He hoped she at least knew that he wouldn't rest until he got her back and that it was some kind of a comfort to her knowing that he was looking for her. It was silly, but he wondered if she could sense him thinking about her right now. He wished he'd gotten the words out when she had been taken. He hoped she had been able to read his eyes and knew how much he loved her. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her body against his as she writhed beneath him.

…

_He looked at her lying there. She was exquisite. Her hands were drawn up and tied behind her back, bound at the elbows and wrists, making it impossible to escape, no matter how much she strained against her bindings. Her mouth was taped, so she was unable to make any intelligible sound, but he could sense her indignation at being rendered so helpless like this. It excited him immeasurably. He leaned in a little closer and watched her eyes widen in fear. The tape over her mouth seemed to accentuate her eyes and the vulnerability in them sent nervous waves of anticipation through his body. The knowledge that she was his and he could do anything to her and she could do nothing about it, made him feel more powerful than he ever had before. Her fate was completely in his hands. He raised his hand and touched her cheek gently, making a small circle with his thumb and forefinger. _

_He watched fascinated as a single tear escaped from her eye. He knew she wanted this really though, so it didn't deter him. He felt himself harden even more as he slowly brought his fingers down her neck, playing slightly around her collarbone, enjoying the feel of the delicate bones and skin. She started to try to move her lower body towards him, raising her hips in a vain attempt to meet his body. He wasn't ready though. He wanted to take his time and enjoy this. He moved his hands down to her belly and slipped them under her top, reaching up towards his target. He traced his fingers gently around the outside of her breasts before circling inwards. He eventually reached her hardened nipples and started stroking them tenderly. She was divine. He raised her top so that it was crumpled around her neck, fully exposing her chest. She was bra-less for he had already taken care of that earlier. _

_He buried his head in her chest, breathing in her scent for a few moments before he started exploring her with his mouth. He took in her nipple and licked, sucked and teased, enjoying how she writhed helplessly at his touch. He repeated his actions on the other breast and then he raised his head and looked straight into her eyes. He loved her so much. He wanted her to know that before he continued. He wanted her to feel pleasure like she had never known it. He could tell she felt awkward, maybe a little guilty, like she ought to be returning the favour to him, but he wanted to do this for her and was happy to. He wanted her pleasure to be completely in his hands. He wanted her to feel out of control, to really let go. So he began to trace his way down her body, enjoying how she squirmed desperately as he reached her and drew his mouth around her, soaking up her taste. _

_He was relentless. Again and again he brought her to a state of delirium that neither of them had ever imagined possible. Then finally, unable to hold back any longer, he slipped himself inside her and allowed himself to feel a small part of the pleasure that he had lovingly imposed upon her. He could feel her rocking against him, matching his rhythm, clenching her muscles around him and he exploded, pushing in deeper than he had ever thought possible._

_Once the shock waves subsided, he returned to her head and placing his mouth against her ear, whispering, he told her once again just how much he loved her. He watched fascinated as the tears escaped her eyes but he knew these weren't tears of distress, but of joy, for together they had just been on a journey to a place neither had known existed. _

…

Elliot awoke with a start, feeling his erection immediately. It had been so real. Then the dismay hit him as he realised what he had done. He was sickened by his own apparent depravity. She had been violently taken in front of him and he had just had the most erotic dream he had ever experienced in his whole life. He was horrified. What the hell was wrong with him? He didn't deserve her. He was repugnant and as the guilt at his inappropriate fantasy enveloped him he hated himself in that moment more than he had ever hated anything ever.


	7. Chapter 7

7

_Two days later_

He felt like shit. He had done it. He had searched out Mariann Knowles and applied a suitable amount of coercion which had convinced her to retract her statement. It hadn't taken much. He knew exactly what fears were going through her head and a few digs about having her past sexual history publicly scrutinised in court and being made to relive the whole attack second by second and ultimately probably not believed anyway, had been enough to convince her. It was so wrong. But he had to do everything he could. Olivia needed him to. It had been over forty eight hours since she had been taken and he was consumed with worry. Mimi had refused to let him speak to her and confirm she was OK. The thought that she may not even be alive and this was all for nothing did pass through his head, but he couldn't take the risk of not acting.

That morning Barton had been released. The whole case had been built on Mariann Knowles' testimony. The remaining evidence was mostly circumstantial and it hadn't been enough to convict him, so the prosecutors had no other option but to drop it. Elliot had watched from across the street when Barton had been released, his heart heavy, but he knew deep down that if this was the price for Olivia's safety, then he would somehow learn to live with it. He glanced at his watch again. In two hours he was due to meet Mimi and she had promised Olivia would be safely released then.

The meeting place had confused him. It was a parking lot for a huge department store. He had been expecting it to be somewhere less busy, more off the beaten track. He didn't really care though. He just wanted her back. He patted his lower abdomen checking once again where he had strapped on a travel belt and slipped a tiny voice recorder into the pocket to take with him. The hope was that he'd get Mimi to say something incriminating which he could later take to the judge and explain how the trial had been influenced.

He wandered back to his car and sank into the driver's seat, wishing the nerves in the pit of his stomach would leave. What if Mimi had lied and she had no intention of releasing her? It was a possibility he had to consider. His thoughts went back to that night and the expression in her eyes as she was taken away. It haunted him relentlessly. Would she forgive him? Why hadn't he fought harder? He never should have allowed himself to be incapacitated so easily.

He was also uncomfortable with how often his thoughts returned to the dream. It remained vivid in his mind. He didn't understand it. He loved her. Why did he dream about restraining her? They had been partners for so long and he respected her as his equal, not as someone he expected or wanted to dominate. He loved how she was just as willing as he was to take charge in the bedroom. With Kathy he had always taken the lead. He had never fantasised about restraining her. Maybe there was something wrong with him and he had power issues? He wished he could talk to someone about it and get his head round it all. The only person he would ever feel comfortable talking about something this intimate with was her though and he wasn't convinced she would be as into the idea of him taking such complete control over her as he was. Besides after this latest experience it would hardly be appropriate. He wished he could just put the whole thing out of his mind, but it was as though the more he tried not to think about it, the more his thoughts kept ending up there.

…

He arrived early at the meeting point and got out of the car to have a quick look around. There was nothing unusual, nothing out of place. He glanced again at his watch, willing for this whole ordeal to just be over. He was terrified as he wondered what kind of state she'd be in after being held for so long. It had been two and a half days. Would she be physically hurt? Would she require hospital treatment? What mental anguish had she been through? Would she even come? He wondered if he had made the right decision. Perhaps he should have ignored Mimi's threats and gone to Cragen. If anything bad had happened to Olivia, he would never forgive himself. It was so hard to know what the right thing to do in as situation like this was, but he knew that Mimi had meant what she said about disposing of Olivia should she feel she was trapped. It was an instinct he had grown to trust over the years. He wouldn't push her, not when Olivia's well-being was a stake.

Finally a car pulled up, only Elliot didn't recognise anyone in it. The car waited for several seconds alongside him, before pulling into a parking space close by. Elliot watched confused, wondering what was going on. Then a man got out. Elliot stared in dismay as he opened the trunk and gestured for Elliot to climb in. This was obviously going to be more difficult that he had thought. Reluctantly he did as asked. He was grimly aware that once again he had willingly put himself into a vulnerable situation, but really what choice did he have?

"Where is she?" he asked as he sank down into the trunk space, but the man didn't reply. He just shut the trunk and Elliot found himself in darkness, his only company a slightly dank musty smell.

…

It seemed an eternity, but it must have been less than forty minutes that they drove. In the beginning he had tried to keep a mental map of where they were going, but the car kept turning, backtracking and even reversed at one point and Elliot had completely lost all his bearings. Instead he focused on listening to any sounds outside which may give him a clue as to where they were going. He assumed they were heading away from the populated areas so the exchange could take place in a safer location. Or at least he hoped that was their plan.

He missed her so much. They hadn't been together for long but it was the happiest he had been in ages. Finally admitting his feelings and hearing her say she felt the same way he did, it was like he had released a heavy burden that had been weighing him down for years. He was finally free. He was finally happy. To have everything taken away from him so soon, before they had barely got started, seemed so unfair.

He heard the sound of someone opening the trunk and he quickly flicked the switch on the voice recorder, removing his hand away from his abdomen just in time. He winced as the sunlight hit his eyes. He felt arms roughly pulling at him and he half clambered, half fell out of the trunk onto the ground where he was forced into a kneeling position, his arms held behind his back by a particularly stocky and burly looking man. He glanced around, searching for her and his heart sank as he realised that she didn't seem to be there. Instead his eyes fell on the familiar figure of the woman he had come to hate more passionately than anyone he had ever known. She walked over and stood in front of him, her hands on her hips.

"I did what you asked," he pleaded miserably. "Where is she…please?"

"God, you're pathetic," Mimi sneered. "What has this bitch got anyway? She doesn't look anything special to me!"

Elliot forced back the surge of anger which threatened to overwhelm him and instead took a deep breath. He wasn't going to reply. It was what she wanted.

"Fine," Mimi said irritated that her attempt to provoke Elliot had failed. "Mick, bring her out."

Elliot's heart leapt at the words. She was really here? He strained, attempting to look up to catch a glimpse of her, but the man holding him pushed down on his back, forcing his gaze to the ground. He groaned as the strain on his shoulders sent a jolt of pain through his arms.

"You know I can't let you go, don't you?" Mimi said suddenly, sending a wave of nausea through him as he realised what she meant.

"But I did everything you asked," he pleaded desperately. "Mason was freed this morning."

"True, but I can't have you running along to your pals and breathing a word of this, can I?"

"Then what the hell is this charade?" Elliot said crossly. "Why pretend to release Olivia?"

"I thought you two would like to say goodbye," Mimi shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a romantic."

Elliot clenched his teeth to prevent him from using a far less flattering adjective to describe her. She was a piece of work alright.

"I'll give you my word I won't tell a sole about any of this," said Elliot quietly, hoping the lie was convincing.

"Yeah thanks, but I think we'll stick to my plan. It's safer all round."

"What is wrong with you?" Elliot felt the tears of anger and frustration pricking at his eyes but managed to hold them back. "Let her go, Mimi," he said suddenly. "Do what you like with me, but let her go. Please. She's got nothing to do with any of this."

"Elliot, how fucking naïve do you think I am?" Mimi asked exasperated. "Look, I'm giving you the chance to say goodbye, so use it wisely. Frank here will give you a few minutes before getting on with business."

"So you're not even staying to do your own dirty work?" Elliot asked angrily.

"Good gracious no," she smiled. "I can't stand the sight of blood! Look, Elliot. I kind of liked you. I had no desire for things to end this way. No hard feelings, hey?"

"You're out of your mind!" he snapped.

"Whatever. Let's get this over with. I am interested in seeing your little reunion. Then I'll be leaving you with Frank. Goodbye Elliot."

Elliot glared at the floor.

Frank then loosened the pressure on his back slightly, so that he could kneel upright and see the figure being brought towards him from a car nearby. Elliot felt a stab of pain in his gut as he saw her. Her hands and arms were bound behind her back as before, although the tape had been removed from her mouth at some point. Her lips were red, raw in places, no doubt from the tape's removal. The cut she had received when she had been taken, although scabbed over now, was surrounded by an unpleasant purple coloured bruise and he noticed fresh ones on her face, a particularly nasty looking one on her cheek. Her hair was unkempt, her expression one of pure desolation. She looked broken. She was wearing a long t-shirt which reached her knees, but nothing else as far as he could see, although he hoped desperately that she had her underwear on. Despite everything, to him she was still the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"Liv," he called out to her, his voice almost cracking with emotion. He wished he could reach out for her, take her in his arms and tell her everything would be OK.

"Elliot?" she said, her tone betraying her confusion. She obviously could hardly believe he was really here. It tore at him.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he said, heartbroken. Their eyes had locked and he could feel everything she wanted to say. He knew in that moment that she didn't blame him.

"I love you," she mouthed.

"I love you too," he mouthed back in reply.

He desperately wished he could touch her one last time. The pain at their inevitable fate tore at his insides and his legs suddenly felt so weak that he was glad he was kneeling. He wasn't scared of death itself, but this was just not how he had imagined it would all end.


	8. Chapter 8

8

The first shot rang out and in gut-wrenching disbelief Elliot watched her fall to the ground along with the guy who had been holding her. It had happened so quickly. She fell with her captor landing on top of her and he saw her bang her head pretty hard on the ground. A thick trickle of red blood started to appear immediately from underneath the two bodies, letting him know that the bullet had hit. He struggled furiously against the guy holding him. It was like déjà vu of that time she had been held with a gun to her head outside the airport and he had thought for several heartbreaking seconds that she had been shot then. Except this time he wasn't able to run over to her and check she was OK. This time she had fallen and she wasn't moving. He just knew she must have been hit and by the sheer amount of the blood that was continuing to pool around them, it was almost certainly fatal.

He didn't want her to die alone like this. He wanted to hold her in his arms, tell her how much he loved her and be with her in her final moments. This was not how it was supposed to be. It wasn't right. He yelled, desperately calling her name, his voice almost unrecognisable even to himself due to his distress at the scene before him. He had to let her know that he was here with her and that he loved her. He hoped she could hear him. Her eyes were closed and she hadn't even twitched since she had fallen.

Then he heard the second shot and he felt an uncomfortable pressure before the searing pain hit. Then everything went black.

…

_Earlier_

Fin was furious. They had worked so hard to prepare the victim for her upcoming court appearance, spending hours and hours going over her statement, the court proceedings and practicing the kinds of questions she would face on the stand. She had seemed confident and ready, despite her initial nerves and she had stated during their last meeting that she was looking forward to seeing her attacker locked up as she felt it would finally give her the closure she desired. Now, out of the blue, she had completely retracted everything, refusing to budge no matter how much he appealed to her, even begging at one point. Without her testimony the case was completely down the pan and that bastard Mason would walk. There was nothing Fin hated more than seeing a known criminal go free, especially as he was certain it was just a matter of time before this creep offended again. It was days like this that made him question his role in the special victims unit. He hated the feeling of complete helplessness. He was supposed to be making a difference, not letting these dirt bags get away.

There was something off with this whole case though. He had pressed Mariann hard. It was probably a little too hard considering she was a sexual assault victim, but they had spent months on this case and it was hard to accept it was all going to be for nothing. She had eventually lost her temper and shouted that it was just as that police officer said, not worth the personal cost. That had raised alarm bells in his head. He had changed tack and asked about this mystery police officer who had told her that. Grateful that the focus on the conversation was no longer purely on her refusal to cooperate, she had willingly described the man and her description had been quite vivid, immediately reminding him of someone very familiar. Remembering the strange phone call from Elliot a few days ago, he had grabbed a photo Olivia kept on her desk of the whole team and showed it to Mariann who had confirmed that Elliot Stabler had been the one she had spoken to.

It was preposterous. How he had even gotten hold of her contact information, Fin had no idea. The other thing Fin hadn't been able to work out, was why? There was no way Elliot would deliberately fuck up a case though, so he knew there had to be a good reason for this. Curious beyond belief Fin had set to work to unravel the mystery. He had gone back over the whole case with a fine tooth comb, looking at Elliot's initial limited role in it and trying to spot any links between him and anyone else at all involved in the case, but he had come up with nothing. The only person he had met was Mason himself on the day of his arrest Out of desperation and not without a fair amount of convincing, he had managed to get permission from Cragen to put a detail on Elliot and one on Mason once he was released. Fin hadn't realised just how serious the situation was until the detail had reported back that Elliot had just been carted off in the trunk of an unknown car. The two-man detail had managed to follow them undetected and called in for urgent back-up when they had realised the scene unfolding before them at the abandoned warehouse.

Earlier the detail on Mason had informed Fin that he had immediately gone to meet with a woman. Fin had realised it must be his girlfriend, Meira McCann, who had seemingly disappeared into thin air right after Mason's arrest. It seemed she hadn't left the city as had been suspected, but had instead stayed behind to wait for Mason, or as Fin now suspected, orchestrate his escape from justice. Meira McCann was known to the police but so far no one had been able to get any serious charges to stick. They knew she was a highly competent con artist and they suspected she was fully involved in Mason's criminal activities. They had wanted to pull her in for questioning at the time of his arrest, but her disappearance had made it impossible.

Fin suspected some kind of coercion was at play, which must explain Elliot's actions. He couldn't imagine what hold Meira could possibly have over Elliot though. He was an ex-detective and an ex-marine after all, not your regular civilian. Fin had originally assumed that maybe Meira had threatened Elliot's family, but when he had checked out the whereabouts of his ex-wife and children, all of them had been accounted for and reported nothing unusual. Then he had rung Olivia. It was true that she and Elliot had been out of contact for a while, but according to Elliot they had recently got back in touch and so maybe she would be able to help shed some light on the situation? The lack of response had been unusual to say the least. It was then that he had realised exactly what hold Meira likely had over Elliot. It must be Olivia.

He had confirmed that no one had seen or heard from Olivia in several days and he assumed the worst; that her life was in danger. He had immediately called Munch back from his annual leave, knowing that they needed all hands on deck, especially now that Olivia, one of their own, was missing. Meira must have threatened Elliot quite seriously if he had felt unable to come to the SVU detectives and inform them of what was going on. He knew they would have to hang back and make sure their presence wasn't felt unless absolutely necessary.

When the frantic call from the detail at the warehouse had come in, he had raced as fast as he could to the site, but when he arrived, he saw he was obviously and tragically too late. The scene was one of chaos. At first glance, all he saw was bodies. He couldn't immediately work out who was who or how many people were down. As he stepped closer though, his worst fears were confirmed. Both Olivia and Elliot were down. His heart sank in absolute horror. He felt responsible. He should have questioned Elliot further when he made that odd phone call about the Mason case. Plus he had a detail following him. He should have made them pull the car over as soon as Elliot had been bundled into the trunk, rather than allowing things to proceed, risking his life in the hope he would lead them to Olivia and Meira McCann. If only Elliot had felt able to come to him in the first place. They could have planned a better response. Maybe things would have gone differently with back-up and a carefully thought-out rescue plan?

The reality that was before him was too much to comprehend. He suddenly felt a wave of nausea. He was temporarily fixed to the spot where he stood, not wanting to step forward and face the situation. They were his colleagues, his friends. They couldn't be dead. This couldn't be real.


	9. Chapter 9

9

He ran over towards her first. He told himself it was because she was closer, although he briefly wondered if that was really the reason. As he drew close, he hesitated as the nerves hit him. He didn't want to confirm that she was really gone. It would be so real then. He had no choice though, he had to do it. She looked just like she was asleep. It seemed pretty clear that the guy on top of her was dead, since the bullet had hit his head, but he felt for a pulse anyway. It confirmed his suspicions. He pulled the body off her, wondering if the blood wasn't in fact mostly coming from him. He suddenly felt hopeful. Maybe she hadn't been fatally wounded? Now able to access her more easily, he nervously placed his hand on her neck. She was alive! He immediately yelled into his radio for help, before he started checking her over. He needed to find where she was hit and stop the bleeding. He also needed to check on Elliot. Was it even possible that the pair of them could have survived this?

He rolled her slightly but still couldn't find a source of bleeding. The only wound he could find was one to her head. Had she even been hit? Maybe she had been knocked out from the fall when the guy holding her had been hit and fallen on to her, knocking her down. He loosened the clothing around her neck, then rolled up his coat and placed it around her head, to prevent her from moving too much should she regain consciousness. Then he stepped over towards Elliot to see if there was anything he could do for him.

He heard the familiar sound of ambulance sirens as he approached his ex-colleague and breathed a sigh of relief knowing that professional medical help was almost there. He knelt down, discovering quickly that Elliot too unbelievably had a pulse, although his was quite weak. He searched for the source of the blood. He soon found a wound in his upper chest towards the shoulder. He applied pressure, invigorated with even more hope when he felt Elliot twitch slightly at his touch. He looked up in relief as the ambulance pulled up. Just a minute longer and he could relinquish responsibility for their welfare to the professionals. He glanced around at the scene as he applied pressure, trying to imagine what had gone on.

_Several hours later_

He tapped lightly at the door and went inside. She was in a half-lying, half-sitting position in the bed, her head bandaged but otherwise appearing physically unharmed. She looked exhausted, but she had apparently refused to sleep, waiting to hear how Elliot's surgery was progressing. He was still in the operating theatre now.

"Hey," he greeted her, drawing close to her bed and sitting down on the chair beside her.

"Any news?" she asked immediately. He shook his head, wishing he had something to tell her. Impulsively he reached out and took her hand in his.

"He'll be OK, Liv. He's a fighter."

"I know," she said, taking a deep breath as she tried to regain her composure.

"What happened?" Fin asked.

"They came into my apartment," she said shakily, as she remembered that night. "They overpowered both of us – cuffed Elliot to the radiator and took me away. We both thought it was a burglary gone wrong at first and didn't resist. We should have fought more. I had no idea they were planning this…"

"Liv, you know I don't need to tell you not to blame yourself for any of this."

"I know, but I'm not a civilian Fin. It was one guy and there were two of us."

"Liv, this is pointless. Beating yourself up over it won't change anything."

She sighed. She knew he was right, but she still couldn't help thinking she should have been able to prevent this somehow.

"So what happened when they took you?" he asked gently. It was a horrible question to have to ask her. This was his colleague, his friend. He cared about her a lot. The thought of anything happening to her, filled him with an anger that he fought to control.

"The guy cuffed my hands behind my back and tied my elbows too. I couldn't get loose. He took me back to a house somewhere in the city. Then he…he locked me in a room and.." She lowered her gaze and something about her expression sent a shiver through him.

"Liv," he said quietly. "Is that all?"

He watched her struggling for a second and then she nodded affirmatively. "They bundled me into a car and brought me to where you found us. Then I saw Elliot was there. I thought for a moment that they were going to release me, but when I realised how remote that place was, I knew they had other plans. Mimi confirmed that we weren't leaving alive and then I heard gunshots and I fell back, must have hit my head then and the next thing I remember I was in the ambulance."

Fin looked at her sharply. He knew her well enough to suspect she had missed out a few details from her account, but this was Olivia. He didn't want to push her into talking about things she was uncomfortable with – not that he believed he would have any realistic chance at that. He was fully aware that if she didn't want to talk, she wouldn't. He wanted to make sure these bastards paid for everything they did to her though. There had been no sign of Mimi, the nickname Meira McCann seemed to use, in the yard at the warehouse, which meant she was at large somewhere. He was worried. He instinctively felt that something more had gone on than what Olivia had revealed. She had a history of bottling things up and he knew better than anyone that certain events in the past had affected her deeply. He hoped that with time she would talk more. She probably just needed a little more time to get her head straight about what had happened. He had a bad feeling about this… although he sincerely hoped he was wrong.

"Fin, he's been in there ages," she said heavily.

"Do you want me to go and ask somebody what's going on?" he offered. They had promised to let them know as soon as there was any news, but he understood full well that this was a busy hospital and sometimes things came up.

"Would you?" she asked, surprising Fin with just how vulnerable she suddenly seemed. He understood then. There was more going on with these two. Had they finally made the leap from friends to something more? It was something he had thought inevitable at one point, but the years had passed, nothing had happened and he had assumed it never would. Now it appeared they had finally got their act together and then this… The thought of Elliot not making it through the surgery suddenly filled him with a horrible dread. She would be thoroughly heartbroken. The mere thought terrified him. Overwhelmed, he leaned in and hugged her to him tightly.

"It's going to be OK, Liv," he promised. The fact that it was a promise he couldn't really make wasn't lost on either of them, but in that moment neither cared. She held on to him, squeezing tightly, appreciating his sentiment.

"Thanks Fin," she whispered. "You're a good friend."

He pulled himself away, slightly perturbed as he realised just how much he really did care for her. Elliot was a lucky bastard.

"I'll go check," he said awkwardly. He was not one for emotional outbursts and this hug had been the equivalent to one for him. "I'll be back as soon as I can." And turning slightly to give her a wave from the door, he left the room.

_Three hours later_

"Please!" she begged. "I have to see him."

The nurse looked unsure, but she eventually gave in. "Fine, I'll take you up, but if they refuse to let you in, that's it."

"OK," Olivia smiled happily. Fin watched amused. She was one stubborn woman, he'd give her that.

"Hang on just a minute," instructed the nurse and she left the room.

"I have to see him for myself, Fin," she said.

"It's OK. I get it," he said grinning.

She returned the grin.

The nurse returned and Olivia stared in dismay at the wheelchair.

"You have got to be joking!" she said in disgust. "No way! I can walk!"

"Either you go in this, or you don't go at all," the nurse insisted. "You've suffered a serious concussion. I can't have you walking around yet."

Olivia looked up at Fin but was met with a look that told her she wouldn't be getting any support from him on this issue. She sighed resignedly. She allowed the nurse to help her into the wheelchair and although she never would have admitted it, she realised she was actually glad she didn't have to walk. As she had swung her legs over the bed and briefly stood to move into the chair, a wave of dizziness had come over her and she had been grateful to return to a sitting position. Her head ached. She didn't really mind though. The important thing was that Elliot had made it through his surgery and assuming there were no complications he should make a full recovery. She was ecstatic.

The three of them headed towards the ICU where Elliot was to be kept overnight for constant monitoring after his surgery. The bullet had entered his chest just below the shoulder and headed into the shoulder. He had lost a large amount of blood and had needed a blood transfusion and he had needed some significant repair work to his shoulder joint where the bullet had shattered the bone. It had been a difficult operation, which is why he had been in theatre for so long. Luckily though the bullet had missed any major organs although he would need a few months of physiotherapy, but hopefully he would regain full movement in his arm. He was only expected to remain in the ICU tonight and then assuming there were no problems should be moved to a regular room the following day.

Outside the ICU, the nurse who had escorted them explained the situation to the staff on duty and Olivia was told she could have ten minutes with him. It seemed that usually they wouldn't let non-family members in so easily to see ICU patients, but an exception was made since Olivia was known to the staff thanks to her frequent visits to the hospital to help the victims she was assigned to work with in the course of her job. She was helped into a sterile gown and cap and then helped to her feet by one of the ICU nurses. Shakily she walked into the room spotting him almost immediately lying on the closest bed to the door, covered in monitors and beeping machines. She took a deep breath as she took in the sight of him lying there like that.

"He's still drowsy from the anaesthetic," explained the nurse. "Here, let me get you a stool." Olivia's unsteadiness on her feet hadn't gone unnoticed. She gratefully accepted the seat and sank down beside him, reaching out gently, taking the hand of his uninjured arm into hers.

"Elliot," she said quietly. "It's me, Liv." He moved slightly and she could have sworn she felt his grip tighten slightly on her hand.

"Don't move, El," she said. "You sleep and get well. I just wanted to come and make sure you were OK." She watched his face as his eyelids fluttered slightly. He was definitely trying to open his eyes.

"I wanted to say thank you," she said, tears now glistening in her eyes. "You came for me." She watched as he opened his eyes and stared straight back at her. She stood and leaned in close to his face, still grasping his hand tightly.

"I love you, El," she said. She could see him trying to mouth the words back to her, but she placed a finger to his lips, shaking her head. "Don't try to speak. You can tell me tomorrow." She smiled and then she leaned in and briefly kissed him tenderly on the lips, ignoring the disapproving nurse who was standing close by.

When her ten minutes was up, as indicated by the nurse, she reluctantly said goodnight.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said. "Sleep well." She then kissed his hand and moved away returning to the corridor where Fin was waiting to escort her back to her room.

**A/N I can't kill them off! :-) There's more luvvin' to come! lol**


	10. Chapter 10

10

_6 days later, 5:15am_

She woke up drenched in perspiration and breathing fast from the sheer terror that had gripped her. It took her a couple of seconds to realise that she was in her own bed and that it had only been a nightmare. If you could reasonably describe what she had just experienced as "only" a nightmare that was. It certainly wasn't something she wanted or planned to dwell on, so she hurriedly got up and headed towards the shower, deciding that doing something practical would take her mind off things. Later that morning Elliot was finally due to be released from the hospital and she couldn't wait. She was kind of hoping that having him home with her would put an end to the nightmares that had been plaguing her over the last week. It was especially hard to deal with since she had been taken from her own apartment, a place she had previously felt safe; not to mention the person she had always relied on to have her back had been unable to do anything to help this time.

Fin had offered her a spare room at his place when she had left the hospital four days ago, but although it was more tempting than she would ever let him know, she had refused. She had stubbornly decided that going home was something she needed to do to prove to herself and everyone else that she was 'absolutely fine'. Fin had insisted on taking her home and going in with her and it actually hadn't been so bad. The acute fear had only set in once he had left and she was on her own. She had checked all the doors and windows numerous times to the point of obsession and she had slept with her gun within easy reach; not that she had got much actual sleep that first night. The couple of times she had managed to nod off she had been woken by the nightmares. It was so frustrating. She just wanted to put the whole thing out of her mind, but it seemed her subconscious wasn't having any of it.

With Elliot's release imminent and nothing better to do, she decided to clean. She hated cleaning but it was one of those things that unfortunately just had to be done. She initially turned up the volume on the CD player, thinking that music would be nice to have on in the background, but then decided it was better to work in silence so as she could hear the second anyone should attempt to break in. She almost felt embarrassed at her own paranoia, but even so she kept the music off.

When it finally reached the time she had planned to leave for the hospital, she quickly changed into some fresh clothes and eagerly headed out of the door. She couldn't wait to get him home, but she had to admit she was a little apprehensive about the conversation that she knew was coming. He would almost certainly ask her about what had happened while she had been held captive and she knew she really didn't want to talk about it, even with him. She much preferred to block it out and try and move on with her life. Talking about it wouldn't change anything, it would only help cement the memory and force her to feel all the emotions she was trying hard to block right now in order to keep it together, for them both. The only thing she wanted to feel was the happiness she had felt when she was with him before all this had happened. He didn't need to have any of it in his head. She knew he already felt guilty enough about not having been able to protect her that night. The whole ordeal had been thoroughly humiliating and she didn't want to think about it.

_Later that morning_

She bolted the door behind them and almost immediately felt him put his arm on her. She turned around and allowed him to pull her in close, mindful of putting any pressure on his injured shoulder. She breathed in his scent and was suddenly aware of just how near to tears she was. She remembered how close she had come to losing him forever and it hit her hard. A little embarrassed at the rush of emotion, she turned her head, hiding her face in his chest, fighting to regain control, hopefully before he noticed. He wasn't helping. He was making circles on her back with his hand and whispering to her, telling her that everything was going to be OK, that she was safe now. It frustrated her that he assumed it was her own trauma that had upset her, not the fact that she was just so relieved that he had pulled through this and they were now alone here together once again. She didn't trust herself to speak though. Just another minute or two and she'd pull herself together.

He guided her over to the sofa and they sat down. Somehow she managed to do so without even lifting her head from his chest. She just held on to him, struggling to fight the onslaught of emotions that was threatening to overwhelm her.

"Liv, talk to me," he said gently after another minute.

"I'm fine," she managed to say.

"No you're not!" Elliot insisted. "It's me, Liv. Please."

"I, I'm just so glad you're here," she said eventually.

"I know," he said. "Me too. I thought I'd lost you when that first shot rang out." She heard the catch in his voice and she raised her head to see his eyes glistening with tears.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What are you apologising for?" he said. "None of it was your fault. If it was anyone's it was mine. I'm the one who allowed Mimi to get close to me. I should have taken her more seriously too."

"No El. You couldn't have known what she was planning."

"But I should have been able to protect you, Liv. You were taken right in front of me and I did nothing."

"El… please…" She felt the tear roll down her cheek. She hated this conversation. She just wanted to be with him, not think about all of this. Why had this happened? They had been so happy. Didn't they deserve some happiness after everything they had been through?

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he said.

"El, please let's not do this now."

"Liv, we should talk about this. It's important."

"Please," she snapped, surprised by the strength of her emotion. "You've just been released from the hospital. I've been looking forward to us being together alone again all week and I just don't want to go over all this shit tonight."

She looked at him and immediately felt guilty for her tone. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"No. You're right. I'm the one who's sorry. Let's enjoy being together. We can deal with everything later. He was pleased to see her smile. "Come here," he said, a large grin now plastered on his face as he pulled her into him and planted his lips on hers.

She allowed contact briefly, but soon pulled away, turning her head and laying it against him. He felt a brief rush of disappointment at the rejection, but quickly berated himself for not being more understanding. She had not long been through a traumatic kidnapping. A sudden fear gripped him. What if she had been sexually assaulted while in captivity and that was the reason she had deflected his kiss? Surely she would have mentioned that though? He suddenly wondered if during all the focus on his own injuries, anyone had bothered to make sure she was really OK. They all knew she would tell everyone she was fine and would need a lot of pushing if she was to reveal that wasn't really the case. He knew he needed to ask her, but she had been so insistent about them not talking about things. He suspected she wouldn't react too well to being further pushed. Her attitude and reaction to his questions rang alarm bells though. There was definitely something she wanted to avoid talking about and he wasn't sure if he should push now or wait for her to reveal it on her own terms. The danger was, if he left it, perhaps she never would?

"Liv," he said tentatively. "I need to ask you something." Not getting a response, he decided to take her silence as an OK to go ahead.

"Did they touch you?"

"El," she said pleadingly. "I thought we weren't going to talk about it."

"I know, but I care about you, Liv. I hate the thought of you hurting and not sharing it with me."

"I'm fine. I told you!"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then tell me."

"Will you just let it go! I told you I'm fine. Why don't you believe me?" He knew she was angry now. He felt guilty upsetting her, but he was still unconvinced. Notably in his mind she had avoided answering the question directly, which to him spoke volumes. It was with a heavy heart that he suspected that she wasn't being completely honest with him and was trying to hide something that had happened. He hated that she felt unable to talk to him about it. It was surprising how much that actually hurt. He had thought, assumed actually, that declaring their love for one another would automatically mean opening up more of themselves to each other. He wished she trusted him. At the same time, he told himself to try and be more understanding. If she was a sexual assault, or heaven forbid rape, victim, then there were no rules. Everyone reacted differently and she had already been through the trauma of an attempted rape before, so who knew how this would affect her? The one thing was he didn't want her going through anything like this alone.

"I'm going to make some coffee," she said. "Do you want any?"

"Sure." He knew it was an attempt on her behalf to avoid any further discussion on the matter. He had got the message, but this was in no way over. He would try again later or even in a day or two depending on how she seemed.

When she returned from the kitchen a couple of minutes later, carrying a couple of mugs of coffee, she apologised.

"I'm sorry I got angry. I didn't mean to ruin today"

She looked on the verge of tears again and he immediately felt terrible for putting so much pressure on her.

"No, I'm sorry Liv. You said you didn't want to talk about it and I carried on and pushed."

"I just need time El." Her voice was almost a whisper and there was a sadness to it that worried him.

"I just want you to feel you can talk to me. I want to be here for you."

"Thanks. I mean that."

Disappointed that she still wasn't going to reveal whatever secret it was she was keeping, he decided he had no choice but to back off a little and wait for her. He put his arm around her and held her close, feeling her press into him. It felt so good to be holding her again. Feeling the familiar stirring below, he wished his shoulder was in better shape. Not that he was sure she would be up for anything intimate.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She didn't reply, but he didn't mind. She was in his arms. That said it all.


	11. Chapter 11

11

_Ten days later_

"Do you fancy going out for dinner tonight?" he asked, poking his head around the bedroom door. She was curled up on the bed, supposedly reading, although he suspected she wasn't actually turning any pages.

"Not really," she muttered, not even raising her head from the book.

"Liv, I think we should. It would do you good to get out of the house."

"Why? Why would it do me good?" Her tone was flat.

"I don't know. It just might. Come on, please." He hated seeing her like this. A night out really might do some good.

"Not tonight, El. Maybe another night?"

Elliot sighed. She was sinking into a depression before his eyes and it seemed nothing he did was helping. He was certain more than ever that something had gone on while she was in captivity, but at the end of the day if she didn't speak to him, there wasn't an awful lot he could do. It hurt though. He couldn't understand why she wouldn't open up to him.

He quietly closed the bedroom door and wandered into the living area. He was sick of being indoors. Maybe he should go out for a run and clear his head. He popped his head back around the door, told her where he was going and then he left. Once outside, he inhaled deeply and then set off at a brisk pace. It felt good to empty his mind and just concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other.

…

Olivia listened as he closed the door. He had really gone. She was on her own. She got up and nervously checked the door was locked properly. It was strange being on her own for he had stayed with her almost every second since he had been released from the hospital. She wasn't surprised he needed a breather though. She was hardly the best company right now. She was trying to get everything straight in her head and 'get over it' but she couldn't get events out of her mind and she felt like she was spinning out of control.

She didn't want to talk about it because it was as embarrassing as hell. She didn't want Elliot having images of her in such a weak and vulnerable position. She was supposed to be a cop; strong and unflinching in the face of danger, but with each hour that passed, her fear had grown, along with her humiliation at the way she had been treated. Eventually the fear had completely taken over and when it got to the point where she knew she would have done anything, absolutely anything, to assure her release, she knew she no longer deserved her badge. Good cops didn't beg for their lives. They didn't attempt to make objectionable deals with their captor by promising they would ensure their captor's escape in exchange for their own life. More importantly, they didn't cry. That had been the worst point. They had laughed when they saw her tears and enjoyed seeing her, an NYPD detective, reduced to that pathetic state. She had been thoroughly terrified. She was a coward and there was no way she wanted Elliot knowing that, for in the same situation she knew he would have been brave. He wouldn't have cried.

She loved Elliot unquestionably, she had never been so sure of anything, but despite that, she couldn't help thinking that maybe a relationship with him wasn't going to work. For twelve long years he had seen her as a cop and he had fallen in love with the persona that she had presented at work. Her colleagues saw her as diligent, compassionate, tough and strong. If she let him in to see the real her and found out that underneath she was in fact weak; a coward, then would he still love her then? She didn't want him to stay with her out of some sense of duty because he had declared his love for her before finding out who the real Olivia Benson was. More devastating though was the thought that once he did find out, what if he left her? It would break her heart. It would be much easier to end things now, before she got even more attached, in order to save future heartache. She just needed to build up the courage to do it.

…

Elliot ran for an hour before heading back to her apartment. He wondered if he should have stopped by the grocery store, but he had been gone a while and was missing her and decided to pop in first just to make sure she was OK. He decided he would try and convince her to come out that night after all. She needed some kind of change. She was showing no signs of being ready to consider going back to work and refused to go and speak with a counsellor, telling him it was pointless and that she just wanted to forget the whole thing. He had backed off, deciding to give her more time before pushing again.

As he slipped the key into the lock, he strained his ears for any sounds within the apartment, hoping to hear she had perhaps left the bedroom. He opened the door and immediately saw her sitting at the table, a cup of hot tea in her hands. Her face looked pale and she had definitely lost weight. Her eyes were sunken and her hair was stretched back in a rough pony tail, which revealed none of her usual care for her appearance. Despite her indifference, she was still beautiful. Every time he saw her, he couldn't help thinking that and suddenly images of them in each other's arms making love hit him, causing a stirring below. He sidled over to her, knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her knee.

He tried to ignore her flinch, but it still hurt. He removed his hand.

"Hey," he said softly.

She looked up at him and the misery in her eyes ripped at his heart.

"Liv," he said. "Please talk to me." He watched her struggle to stay in control and her face softened briefly. But then it immediately hardened again.

"El. This isn't working."

The sudden words hit hard. He actually felt nauseous. Surely this wasn't what it sounded like?

"What do you mean?" he managed to stammer, hoping he had misheard, hoping she was talking about something completely different and he was on completely the wrong wavelength.

""Us," she confirmed. He could barely breathe. This wasn't happening.

"Liv, if I've done something, I'm sorry. Tell me so I can make amends. I love you. I…" He was finding it hard to speak as the emotions overwhelmed him.

"El, I love you too, but it's just not going to work." Her tone was stone cold and she sounded like she meant it.

"Liv, we love each other. We can make this work."

"No, El… I want you to go."

"No. This isn't right. I get that you're hurting right now. Something happened and you won't talk about it, but I'm not abandoning you that easily. I love you Olivia. I love you!"

"Please, El. Just leave. Don't make this harder than it already is!" She sounded angry now and Elliot's fear rose. He knew she was deadly serious and he knew that this wasn't a Liv that he could normally argue with and win.

"Liv, please…." he begged. He saw the brief flash of indecision on her face, but then it was replaced by anger and she lost it, taking him by surprise.

"Just get out!" she yelled. "Just fucking leave me alone! I just want to be alone. Why can't you get that? I don't need you. I don't want you here. Go! Just fucking go!"

Elliot stared in shock. He had never heard an outburst from her like this before. She had got to her feet and she looked like she was about to hit him or something. He got to his feet too and backed away a little, not wanting to provoke her when she was obviously already volatile.

"OK," he said slowly, watching as she seemed to visibly relax as he spoke. "I'll give you some space. I just, Liv, just know I love you, OK?"

She didn't say anything, but just watched him emotionlessly as he stepped towards the door.

"I'll pack your things and let you know when you can pick them up," she said.

He nodded, desperately searching for some kind of emotion on her face that would let him know that she was just messing about and the whole thing was a horrible joke. How had things turned into this? He opened the door, stepped halfway out, turned and paused, hoping that she would change her mind, pull him back inside, tell him she was sorry for losing it and finally tell him what was going on with her really, but she didn't. So faced with little choice, he closed the door. In disbelief, he made his way down the stairs. It was only when he got into his car, sat down and placed his hands on the steering wheel that he realised just how much he was shaking.

…

She stared at the door for a good minute, before the impact of what she had just done hit her. The tears welled but she didn't stop them. There was no one to see her cowardice now, so she allowed them to fall unchecked, slowly sinking to the floor where she stood, allowing the sobs to take over and rack her body completely. She hated herself with a passion for what she had just done to him. It was unforgivable, but in her mind it was just confirmation that he really was better off without her. She knew that with time, he'd eventually get over it. He deserved someone better than her. She knew she would never truly get over losing him, but she convinced herself that she was doing it for him; she was saving him from a life of disappointment and misery with her. She was doing it because she loved him so much that she wanted him to be happy and she was convinced that he wouldn't be with her. It didn't stop the pain though. Her heart was now truly broken.

**A/N Oh the roller coaster... Will Elliot just sit back and accept this situation or will he fight for their relationship? Will he ever find out what really happened while she was held? **


	12. Chapter 12

12

He started the engine, fastened his seat belt and was just about to pull out, but didn't get as far as releasing the hand brake. He couldn't just leave like this. It was just so wrong. She was obviously seriously hurting and pushing him away seemed more like a reflex than something she really wanted. He knew her feelings for him were real. There was no doubt when staring into her eyes as they made love. He truly believed she wouldn't really want him to go like this. He turned off the ignition. Even though he had made his decision to go back up there, he still felt nervous about returning. Being told to get out hurt, even if he did know that it was obviously her emotional state causing her to react like this, not him. He needed to talk to her. He felt bad for walking away, even though she had been pretty forceful about it. He should have refused though. She meant too much to him to just give up that easily and he should have shown her that.

He knocked lightly on her door, praying she would either let him in or that she hadn't bolted it yet, for his key would be of no use then. There was no reply and so he tried the lock, relieved that the door opened for him easily.

"Liv," he called gently, glancing quickly around the room searching for her before he realised she was right there, but hidden behind the door which he had just opened. It had been lucky he hadn't hit her barging in like he had, he thought. He stepped inside fully and closed the door. She was on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, her face buried in her arms. He had never seen her looking so dejected in all the years he had known her. He sank down to the ground beside her and reached for her. He lifted her head gently to look at him, for he wasn't convinced she had really taken in the fact that he was back. Her cheeks were soaked with tears and he noticed her brief expression of both surprise and obvious relief that he had returned. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her close to him and held her tightly.

She didn't resist. It was pointless trying to bother trying to hide her distress now. She felt completely exposed but at the same time it was surprisingly comforting having him just holding her like this. She felt her grip involuntarily tightening and she clutched him desperately. She couldn't believe he had come back after what she had said to him. She knew she hadn't meant any of it. She had just been terrified that his feelings towards her would ultimately change. She was still not convinced that they wouldn't, but he was here now, he was holding her and she felt nothing but love and concern emanating from him. Maybe she should trust him. Maybe she should tell him.

"I couldn't leave," he whispered as he kissed her head gently.

"I'm… so… sorry," she managed to stutter.

"It's OK," he said. "I know this is really hard for you. I just want you to trust me and know that I am here for you whatever. I don't care what you tell me. It will never change the way I think of you."

She turned her head slightly to look at him questioningly.

"I know you," he continued. "I know you hate this… this display of emotion… but you're still you. It doesn't change anything."

"El," she whispered. He kissed her again.

"Liv, crying doesn't make you a weak person, you know. You're the strongest person I know. I want you to share this with me. I want to be here for you."

"I know. I just, this doesn't feel like me, you know."

"Shh, it's OK. It really is." He stroked her hair soothingly. It was so soft and he loved the feel of it between his fingers.

"I am just scared it's too much, that I'm not the person you fell in love with any more and losing you would just be too hard…especially now" Her voice trailed off. She couldn't believe she had just voiced her real fear. Her gaze had fallen as she spoke, but his hand on her chin guided her eyes back to his and she knew that he meant every word he was saying.

"Liv, you're not going to lose me." She could feel his conviction and she knew she trusted him implicitly.

"Tell me, Liv," he said quietly. "Tell me everything. Share it with me. Let me in."

She nodded slowly.

"Come on he said," pulling her to her feet. "Let's get more comfortable and we can talk. Do you want a hot drink? How about a hot cocoa?" She nodded again and after getting her seated more comfortably on the sofa, he slipped into the kitchen to make the drink, while she wiped the remaining tears from her face and eyes with some tissue.

A couple of minutes later he brought her a warm mug of cocoa and handed it to her, before settling down beside her. He watched her sip the drink gingerly, smiling as a tiny bit of cream remained on her upper lip like a small moustache.

"What?" she asked. He leaned forward and wiped it away with a tissue and she smiled self-consciously.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" he asked as she placed the mug on the coffee table.

"Yes, thank you," she said.

"Are you ready to talk?"

"Will you talk too?" she asked. It was difficult to know where to start and she wondered it would be easier if he started things off.

"Me?" he replied.

"Yes. What happened after we left, after I was taken I mean?"

His face clouded as he remembered the look in her eyes as she had been led away.

"El, what is it?" she asked with alarm.

"When he took you, it was one of the worst moments in my life," he said seriously. "I couldn't do a thing and I had never felt so helpless before. I should have been able to protect you."

"It wasn't your fault. He had a gun."

"I know, but even so. I should have done something."

"We both thought it was a robbery," she said. It was true. They had both assumed that once the guy had taken what he wanted he would leave. Neither had considered that what he had actually wanted was her.

"Liv, if I had known it was you he was after, I would have fought harder." He reached for her hands now. "I never would have let him take you. I never would have let them touch you. I'm so sorry."

"El, it's not your fault," she repeated.

"I keep going over it," he admitted. "I keep trying to decide where it all went wrong, what I should have done to prevent this."

"You couldn't," she said. "I don't blame you."

"But you don't feel safe with me anymore, do you? How could you?"

"I've always felt safe with you Elliot: more than anyone else. I always will."

"I will never forget that look in your eyes," he whispered, "…when he took you away.

"Please, El," she said, fresh tears once again glistening in her already damp eyes.

"Forgive me, Liv…"

She grasped his head and pulled him to her this time. "Of course I do, but there's nothing to forgive. This wasn't your fault."

"It all was," he said. "If I had had the courage to tell you how I felt about you before, I never would have met Mimi and none of this would ever have happened."

She smiled now. There was something cute about the thought of him harbouring secret feelings towards her but being too scared to admit them. It was a shame neither of them had been very expressive about their feelings, for it did feel like they had wasted so much time apart when they could have been together.

"We're together now," she said smiling.

"Yes, we are," he smiled back. Then he impulsively leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the warm tingly sensation that coursed through her body. When he withdrew she snuggled into him, breathing in his scent and soaking up his warmth.

"Hey, are you cold?" he asked, concerned, seeing the goose pimples on her arms.

"Nope," she said grinning at him mischievously.

"We're supposed to be talking," he said, trying to will away his physical reaction for a more appropriate time. It wasn't that he didn't desperately want to give over to his desire for her; it was just that he was unwilling to risk losing the opportunity. She had promised to talk to him and he didn't want her changing her mind.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Back to reality, huh?"

"Liv, you need to do this. We need to do this."

She nodded, closing her eyes briefly. If only it could just be like this; the two of them together. No pain, no trauma, no 'reality' to ruin things.

"I love you," he said. She opened her eyes.

"I love you too," she replied.

He looked at her expectantly. He was obviously waiting for her to begin now. She still wasn't sure where to start.

"I knew you'd come for me," she finally managed.

"You did?"

"Yes," she nodded fervently. "It was the one thing I was certain of – that you wouldn't rest until you found me. It was comforting."

He smiled; glad she had felt like that.

"I knew you would be frantic," she continued, her expression growing slightly more pained as she remembered.

"It was a long couple of days," he agreed. "Once I knew it was Mimi behind it though, I did feel a little better at least knowing why they had taken you. I was hoping that if I gave them what they wanted, you would be unharmed." He watched her intently as she winced at his words and his heart sank a little. He wondered if he was really ready to face whatever it was she had gone through. He had to though. He had to be strong for her. He didn't want her going through this alone any more.

He reached for her hand again and held it tightly, letting her know he was here for her. Then he waited. This was going to be on her terms. She had promised to talk and so he was going to give her all the time she needed.

"It hurt," she said distantly. He felt a knot of fear growing in his stomach. "…The arm bindings that pinned my arms behind my back. I felt like my shoulders were going to be wrenched out of their sockets."

"How long were you bound like that?" he asked heavily.

"Just until they got me to where they held me," she said. "I don't know how long it was. Maybe it was less than an hour. It was hard to keep track of time. I was completely disorientated."

"Where did they hold you?"

"In a basement of a building somewhere. He put a blindfold on me once we got to his car. I lost track of which direction we were going in after a while. There were too many turns, plus he had me lay on the back seat which made it even more confusing to keep track of where we were going."

"Did they keep you tied up in the basement too?"

"Yes. I was chained to a metal post in the floor during the day and there was probably at least a couple of metres of length on the chain so I could move around. At night I was more… more restrained. I guess they felt better having me less mobile then?"

"Gosh Liv." Elliot took a deep breath trying to imagine the horror she had been through and not liking it at all. He still had her hand in his and he squeezed it slightly. "So, you were taken by car and then moved to a basement. Did he say anything? Did you know at that point why you had been taken?"

"He didn't speak except to give me instructions to sit up, lay down, stand, walk etc.

"It must have been horrifying," he said.

"I assumed the worst," she admitted. "I kept thinking back to that Darryl Kern case* and many of the others we've worked and I just…it was just…"

"Terrifying." Elliot finished for her.

"I guess," she agreed.

"Of course it was," he said sympathetically. "We've seen the worst so it doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"It took over," she said quietly, her cheeks very slightly reddening as she admitted it. "The fear," she added, seeing his confused expression. She hoped he hadn't noticed her cheeks which to her felt like they were burning.

"Oh Liv," he said. "I was thinking about you constantly. I was terrified too." He felt her squeezing his hand back.

"He took me down into that basement, removed everything; the arm straps, gag and blindfold and then chained me to the bed, El. I thought there was only one way it was going to end, right then and there. But he left and I just waited, straining to hear any noise which might suggest he was coming back to do what I knew was inevitable. And it was horrible. It got to the point where I wanted him to come, just to get it over with, because waiting for it, not knowing when it would be, it was so indescribably unbearable."

Elliot hardly dared to breathe. The question he was itching to ask was on the tip of his tongue, but he was terrified to hear the answer.

"I don't know how much time passed, but it must have been several hours before… before he came back," she said falteringly. He tightened his grip on her hand once again as he waited to find out what had really happened while she had been held captive.

_* Manhunt, Season 2, Episode 18_


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N - Warning. This chapter explores what happened while she was in captivity. Rated M.**

13

_18 days ago_

_Part 1_

She tensed as she heard the sound of someone approaching. He was finally coming for her. She immediately felt a wave of nausea hit her and for a second thought she might actually vomit. The saliva built in her mouth in anticipation and she turned her head, trying to aim downwards as best as she could. The brief thought of them, Elliot, eventually finding her and being met with a scene where she had choked on her own vomit caused by her own fear was humiliating. She readily admitted to herself she was more terrified than she ever had been in her life right now, but the thought of everyone else knowing just how much was excruciating. If she was going to suffer, maybe even die here, she wanted it to be with as much dignity as she could muster. She wanted them to find her and believe she had fought with every ounce of strength she had until the very end.

She thought back to a poignant conversation she had had with Elliot a few years ago. They had been talking over a few beers about his time in the armed forces. The subject had been brought up after a case that had reminded him of his former life and their conversation had specifically veered to his experience with training to withstand torture and interrogation techniques. She had found it fascinating and listened intrigued as he spoke of a life she could barely imagine. She was amazed how she could see in his eyes both the softness that he directed towards his family, the victims, even to her, but at the same time there was that steely resolve and a hint of hardness that intimidated her. She had been too nervous to ask if he had ever taken part in carrying out any such harsh interrogations himself and he hadn't volunteered that information. It wouldn't have surprised her though and she wondered why she was so timid about asking. They interrogated suspects every day after all. She supposed it was a completely different ball game, however. They worked under a strict code of what was considered acceptable and what wasn't and breaking that could mean losing the case.

It wasn't so much that conversation though which had stuck in her memory. It was the fact that she had then gone on to wonder briefly what it would have been like to have him as her interrogator. It had filled her with a nervous apprehension that both scared and enthralled her. A brief image of him, pressed up against her, holding her arms back forcefully against the wall as he moved his mouth in closer suddenly came into her head and it shocked her. Appalled at the dampness forming between her legs, she had hurried to the bathroom and tried to steer her thoughts back to the more mundane. She knew she found him attractive, but he was married and so was unavailable. It was weird though. Her usual fantasies involved being wined dined and seduced. Not pinned up against a wall and forced into submission. Unable to understand the workings of her own mind, she decided the best thing was to put it down to the beer and forget about it. She had wiped herself dry and returned to the table.

She could almost hear his voice in her head now as she imagined him telling her not to panic, that he would be looking for her, that all she had to do was survive the next few hours and she would be rescued. It was vaguely calming, comforting even, to tell herself that this was only a temporary 'challenge' and it wouldn't last forever. She closed her eyes and for a moment she imagined he was here beside her and this was just some kind of a game, albeit a little more extreme than their usual bedroom routine. It was easier than trying to face her reality.

She wasn't naïve. The man who had taken her had already displayed an alarming knowledge of bondage techniques that she herself was only aware of due to the nature of her job. None of her restraints had been crude, but instead seemed well maintained and specifically designed. The majority of kidnappings she had been involved with tended to involve much less refined restraining techniques, intended for one purpose alone with no aesthetic considerations whatsoever. She pondered the likelihood that her captor just happened by coincidence to have a healthy and innocent interest in BDSM techniques and he just happened to be making use of these tools to restrain her for other reasons, rather than actually having any sexual intent towards her. Perhaps that was being a little too hopeful though and she decided that she ought to be prepared mentally for something more sinister.

Her mind was racing with escape options. Attempting to gain the man's trust was one obvious option, but the likelihood that it would require her to convince him he had her complete submission thoroughly sickened her. She wondered where his specific interests lay and hoped for her sake she wasn't dealing with a sexual sadist, or worse a total sociopath, oblivious to his victim's plight. She knew the majority of those in the BDSM community were well-adjusted normal adults. Anyone violating the strict codes of safety or surpassing pre-established limits or ignoring safe words would be ostracised from the community. She knew that in general the aim between loving partners was to reach a higher level of intimacy, by acting out fantasies. She had to find out whether her captor was a true threat or not before panicking. She needed a clear head if she was to get out of this.

As the door slowly opened with a creak, she felt her heart rate involuntarily quicken and beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She cursed her body's reactions, willing herself to remain calm and not give this bastard any visual signs of just how affected she was by his mere presence. She was very aware that whatever her fate, he was likely going to enjoy the power game and her dignity insisted that even if she was physically overpowered, she would never allow him to overpower her psychologically. She may lose temporary control of her body, but she wouldn't let him take control of her mind.

The man stepped inside slowly and she stared at him, trying to imprint every feature firmly into her memory. He stepped towards her and she could see his dark eyes more closely. She noticed his thick eyebrows, his long lashes, his nose which looked as though it might have been broken in the past and his ears which were unremarkable, except for a tiny mole on the left earlobe. His hair, also dark, was short and slicked back with hair gel. He was wearing cheap cologne but it barely masked the repugnant smell of stale tobacco. It was only now she realised he looked like he was only in his late twenties, which made her feel even more repulsed by her situation. Being restrained by a 'kid', probably half her age just seemed all the more humiliating.

He stepped towards her and she involuntarily tried to back away, but her restraints held her firmly in position. She was immediately overwhelmed by the realization of exactly how helpless she was. It wrenched at her gut and she angrily fought back the tears that seemed so ready to fall. There was no way she was crying. No way. She blinked furiously, forcing herself to focus on the anger and force her self-pity away.

The man watched with a semi-amused smile on his face and she shuddered. The silence was unnerving. Why wouldn't he speak? What on earth did this freak have planned for her?

"Why am I here?" she asked, feigning confidence as best she could. It wasn't the first time she had tried to glean the reason for her kidnap, but once again it proved futile.

"Do not speak, unless you are spoken to," the man instructed her. His voice was cold and unattached and it sent a shiver down her spine.

She was about to reply, but as she opened her mouth his hard gaze met hers and she decided better of it. Something in his eyes told her he was not to be toyed with and so she decided to wait to see how things would play out. It made sense to preserve her energy for a bigger fight.

He sat down on the side of the bed, at the level of her knees and she cringed. This was really it, she thought. Then a wave of panic suddenly hit and as the surge of adrenaline coursed through her body, she started thrashing uncontrollably, pulling against the restraints, trying to break free. She knew logically it was completely ridiculous, for her restraints were nothing if not thorough, but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't just lie there and accept her fate without a fight. It went against every fibre of her being. She could feel herself growing breathless from her exertion. Her arms and legs were beginning to hurt from the force of her own movements and from where they were pulling against the restraints. She knew she couldn't keep this up and it hit her just how pointless it was to waste her energy like this.

She stopped moving and lay with her muscles tense. She was hyper alert, straining to detect the slightest sound or movement by her captor. It was exhausting. She suddenly wondered what time it was. There was no outside light, so she had no idea if it was day or night. She had completely lost track of time, although her growling stomach informed her that she was definitely overdue at least one meal. Maybe she hadn't been here that long and she had just missed breakfast? It was horrifying to think that it could have just been a matter of hours when it already felt close to an eternity. Deciding to take the risk of ignoring his previous instructions, she asked timidly.

"What time is it?"

"I see you are going to need some encouragement to obey instructions," hissed her attacker. His frustration looked half-feigned. In fact he seemed almost pleased at the prospect of dealing with her rebellion. She was horrified that she had inadvertently played into his hands, for it was no part of her plan to do anything to increase his enjoyment. She clamped her mouth shut, deciding to stay quiet – for now anyway.

He didn't seem satisfied however and she watched wide-eyed as he stepped over towards a huge piece of furniture standing a couple of metres away, against the far wall. She had been so wrapped up in her predicament that she had barely given it any attention until now. From the outside it looked like any old boring piece, but now he was opening the doors and what she saw filled her with a cold dread that gripped her firmly. She literally froze in horror. Even from her awkward angle there was no question that the thing was full of an array of objects that brought sheer terror to her heart. There was no question she was in a very serious situation and she almost gave in then.

She forced herself to go to that state of mind she used when walking in on a horrifying crime scene. It was an ability they all soon learned in their job. They would temporarily distance themselves from the emotions surrounding the cruel nature of the cases they witnessed, much like a medic or a soldier had to do to complete their job. It was a kind of self-imposed numbing of the senses. Of course it wasn't anything but a temporary solution and she knew that once she got through this it would come back to haunt her relentlessly, but the important thing was now. She had to stay in control. She couldn't lose it. She had to endure it until she was rescued. It was the only way she would get through this without losing herself.

She couldn't look at the cupboard any longer. It was easier to try and shut it out of her mind. She heavily suspected that she was trapped in here with a sadistic fuck who would no doubt attempt to break her, but she tried to stay focused on the fact that in many of the cases she had encountered, the perpetrator had seemed to show considerable patience in breaking in a victim and if she played her cards right, perhaps she had a real hope of dragging things out until she could be rescued, hopefully before anything too terrifying could happen. Then she prayed to the God she knew Elliot believed in, loved and trusted. She felt almost guilty for doing so and the first thing she prayed for was for forgiveness in only turning to prayer now, in such dire circumstances. Then she begged his God to spare her the worst and to help Elliot find her as fast as possible.

She could hear him returning and she tentatively opened her eyes, abruptly ending her prayer with a silent and hurried amen. She was relieved to see he held none of the more threatening pieces of equipment in his hands but instead held a roll of tape and a blindfold. She shook her head desperately, pleading with him to leave her be, begging him to understand that she wouldn't speak again. She would submit to his rules – for now. But it was of no use. He slowly wrapped the tape over her mouth encompassing her jaw, completely preventing her from any intelligible speech. Once again she felt the tears brimming, but she managed to will them away, reminding herself that a stuffed nose now was the last thing she needed. She had to stay calm, now more than ever. She started taking deliberate regular breaths through her nose and realised that she was OK. She could breath.

Then the guy placed the blindfold over her eyes and she was in almost complete darkness. There was a vague glow which seeped through from the lighting in the room, but it wasn't much. Once again she worked to control her rising panic and her breathing so that she wouldn't compromise her airway. The sensory deprivation was unnerving. It seemed that immediately her sense of hearing became even more astute and she was sensitive to the slightest sound. She could hear him shuffling and for a moment she thought he had returned to the awful cupboard, but then she felt a pulling on her restraints and she realised he was releasing her legs.

"I'm going to let you stand to stretch," he said. "Any sudden movements and you will regret it. Nod if you understand." She nodded. This was an interesting turn of events. Maybe her chances were more favourable than she had thought. She knew that hours of restricted movement could cause her serious problems, but the fact he was allowing her to move around now suggested that he didn't want to cause any permanent damage. If that were truly the case then she knew there had to be a limit to where any subsequent torture could possibly go.

She felt her arms being released from the bed and she considered making her move and lashing out at him, but with the blindfold she couldn't see where to aim. Exerting herself with no end result could make things worse. The thought came to her then that even though he seemed to be showing concern for her long-term physical well-being right now, it didn't mean it would always be the case. It could be that he intended to keep her for a while and that's why he didn't want any serious damage, but if she proved too difficult to handle, maybe that would change and he would lose interest?

He forced her to stand up quickly and she felt the blood rush from her head making her feel dizzy. He pulled her wrists behind her back and held them there himself as he forced her to walk, circling the room, stretching her legs. She continued to struggle with whether she really should make a move or not, but at no time did she feel his grip loosen or his attention on her falter. After a few minutes of walking, she was led back to the bed and told to lie down on her back. Her heart sank as she realised that it was now too late to do anything: her chance had gone. She felt him pinning her arms and legs one by one, so that she was lying once again spread like a star, with each limb attached firmly to each bedpost. Her despair deepened as she felt him tightening the restraints more than before and then she felt the straps going over her body, above and below her breasts and over her thighs. Within minutes she realised she was now completely immobilised, blind and unable to speak. It crossed her mind that at least she was still fully clothed. It was at least one thing to be grateful for, despite the humiliation of her current position.

"Perhaps this will teach you to obey," her captor said. "I will be back in an hour to see how receptive you are. Do not panic. I have cameras on you and I will be watching. You are in no danger."

She felt sick. Rather than being any comfort that her safety wasn't compromised, it creeped her out to know he was constantly watching her. It made sense that he would want to visualise his work though. The only good thing about this situation was that, despite the discomfort of being immobilised as she was, at least she was now assured an hour of relative peace where she would not be molested or abused. It was a small comfort, for what would happen after that, she could only imagine.

**A/N - I changed the title to better reflect the story content.  
Thank you also to all those who have taken the time to review. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Thank you very much to my latest anonymous reviewer... I've been feeling a little discouraged lately which is why I haven't posted ... but you motivated me. This chapter is very short, so I am posting two together. I also edited parts of chapter 13, so hopefully it reads a little better.**

14

_Present time_

She shivered involuntarily and she felt Elliot's arms around her tighten supportively. She was snuggled up firmly against him, her head resting on his upper shoulder and chest, her arms wrapped around his waist, his arms around her. She couldn't remember moving to this closer position, but it was probably not long after she had started speaking. She raised her head enough to look up at him and saw the tears swimming in his eyes. She immediately felt terrible. It was bad enough that this had happened to her, but listening to her as she described the whole experience in detail, was obviously making him distraught too. The last thing she wanted was to cause him any sadness. The words left her lips before she could stop herself.

"I'm so sorry El." It was a half-whisper. Even to her own ears it didn't sound like her own voice.

"Please stop apologising," Elliot replied immediately and firmly.

"But I never wanted to cause you any pain," she continued miserably.

"Listen, Liv. I've told you already. I want you to share this with me. I want to be here for you. You can't do this alone. I admit, it's not easy to hear what you're telling me, but it was so much worse for you. At least you are here now in my arms and I know you are safe. You didn't know what was going to happen when you were being held."

"El, I…"

"Sweetheart, it's OK. It really is. I love you so much." He kissed her head, watching sadly as the tears streamed down her face, feeling his own begin to roll down his cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for being here."

"I'll always be here for you. You're going to get through this sweetheart. It's going to get better. I promise."

"I hope so," she said doubtfully as he kissed her again.

"Are you up to continuing, sweetheart? Do you need a break? We could finish this later?" It was the last thing he really wanted. He wanted to hear everything right now and finally get answers to the questions tormenting him, but he had to put her first. He could only imagine how exhausting it was for her to be going over everything in fine detail like this. He vaguely wondered if he was doing the right thing getting her to talk here. Part of him thought they should be doing this down the precinct, recording every word so she would never have to repeat the awful story again if she didn't want to. He suspected that suggestion that would only serve to clam her up though. She had already been clear that she didn't want anyone knowing about this, or at least not the intimate details. He knew that her opening up to him like this was no small thing. He was immensely proud of her and over-the-moon that she trusted him enough to talk to him.

"I'm OK El," she replied. "I don't want to do this again. I want to tell you everything now." He nodded and took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N Posted together with chapter 14**

15

_18 days ago_

_Part 2_

Once again she had lost all track of time. She was convinced an hour must have passed already, yet he didn't return. What if he never did? What if she remained tied to the bed like this, unable to move, helpless, until eventually a lack of food and water killed her. She hated the way her thoughts kept turning morbid like this, but she couldn't get the image of Melinda examining her cold lifeless body out of her head. At least she'd be in good hands. That woman was as thorough as they come. She would no doubt work out the real cause of her death: her own passiveness.

She knew she was probably being hard on herself, but she couldn't help looking back at every single instant since she had been taken, when she could have fought but hadn't. In fact she never should have allowed herself to be captured and taken in the first place. Some cop she was! She couldn't stop thinking how there were two of them yet they had still been unable to outwit their attacker. It kept turning over and over in her mind that her current predicament was partly her own fault and it was driving her crazy. When Elliot had left she had remembered their partnership with a fondness that didn't include mistakes. She only remembered the way they had worked so well together and their combined high conviction rate. Now she was facing a less rosy reality; one where after just a few months apart they had seemingly lost their touch.

The growing itch on her arm took her attention away from her own perceived failings and she cursed the bindings that kept her from reaching it adequately. She wriggled against the bed, trying to soothe it as best she could, but she could hardly move with the extra restraints. The boredom of just lying there doing nothing but worry and imagine her upcoming fate was almost worse than the uncomfortable position itself. And now she could feel the sensation of her full bladder and she groaned. If her captor didn't return soon, then she knew she would be able to add 'wetting herself' to the list of humiliations that seemed to be relentlessly growing.

She started to count. She reached 300 and then decided to switch to going through the multiplication tables. Anything was better than just laying there thinking. All twelve completed, she attempted to go up higher. There was something relaxing about reciting numbers. Struggling at around sixteen, she decided to go back to the start again and this time, do it in Spanish. She had reached eight times eight is sixty four when she heard the sound of his approach and she felt her stomach muscles tighten and her breathing rate quicken. He was back.

Remembering his insistence that she shouldn't speak, she remained silent this time as he came in, loosened the straps around her waist and removed her gag and blindfold, the latter making her squint as her eyes readjusted to the light. She winced as he praised her patronisingly for being a 'good girl'. Then, as though reading her mind, he asked her if she needed to use the bathroom. She nodded tentatively. Maybe this was her real chance to escape? She begged her heart to slow down a little and not give away her thoughts.

"I'm going to untie you. Fight me and I will put you straight back how you were. Nod if you understand." She nodded. "Good girl," he repeated, making her struggle to swallow her anger.

She watched him carefully as he first released her legs, then her arms. She cringed at his touch as he helped her sit up and she rubbed her arms and legs which were tingling.

"Hands in front," he instructed and she watched dismayed as he produced a pair of handcuffs and proceeded to place them on her wrists. He then yanked her upright by her elbows and she wobbled, feeling extremely unsteady on her feet. She wondered how much of it was due to being forced down into a spread-eagled position on the bed for so long and how much of it was also due to the fact she couldn't remember when she had last eaten.

"Walk," he instructed and she gingerly did as she was told. With his arm hooked around her elbow, she allowed him to lead her up the steps and towards the bathroom which was right outside the doorway to the cellar. She tried to glance around but a rough hand forced her head downwards and her eyes to the floor. He opened the door to the bathroom and guided her inside. There was a simple toilet and sink and not much else. She didn't care though. The need to pee now outweighed pretty much every other sensation she was feeling. The décor of the bathroom was really the last thing on her mind. That was until what happened next anyway. For then he started to unbuckle her trousers. She immediately pulled back.

"It's either this or you can wet yourself," the man stated in a tone that suggested he couldn't really care less either way. She raised her cuffed wrists slightly, begging him with one look to release her so she could relieve herself in privacy but he refused.

"I'm not stupid," he said, his tone betraying his rising annoyance. "Now stay still!" Her options limited, she closed her eyes as she subjected herself to the humiliation of having her trousers and panties pulled down to her ankles by this creep. When he had finished, he gestured for her to go ahead and use the toilet. He took a step back, leaning against the door and stared at her relentlessly. She sank on to the toilet seat, grateful that at least now she could lean forward slightly reducing his view of her considerably. She had been holding it in for so long that it took a few seconds to get started, not to mention the nervousness at having someone watching her so intently. She decided though that if this was how it would be, it would be prudent to try and pee as much as she could, to reduce the number of occasions she would need to use the toilet.

It didn't end there. He proceeded to wipe her with a tissue before he pulled up her underwear and trousers painstakingly slowly, as though wanting to draw out her discomfort. Once finished he walked her back down into the cellar in silence. Once there, leaving her handcuffs in place, he chained one of her feet to a metal post in the middle of the room. She had enough slack on the chain to move around a little but it didn't look long enough to reach either the door or the ominous cupboard.

"Are you hungry?" her captor asked. She nodded reluctantly. In truth, she was famished. She had toyed with the idea of refusing any food as a matter of protest, but decided that it would be best to keep her strength up to make sure that should the opportunity to escape present itself, she would be able to take full advantage of it.

He left the room, presumably to find her something to eat. While he was gone she tested out the full range of her movements with her new restraint and found as she had suspected she wasn't able to reach anything of interest. Even so it was better than being pinned to the bed she decided.

When he reappeared with a ham sandwich and a cup of water, it almost made her smile. She wasn't sure why but she hadn't been expecting to be given something so normal. Images of inedible lumpy porridge-like gruel had been more like what she had been imagining would be served to a prisoner in her situation. She eyed the plate longingly, wondering for a minute if she would be allowed the luxury of feeding herself or whether he would want to control that aspect of her life too. Luckily it appeared he had other things to be doing, for he placed the paper plate and cup down in front of her and told her that he would be back later to fetch them. Then he left.

She ate the sandwich speedily. It was amazing how much better food seemed to taste when you were really hungry. The bread was probably slightly on the stale side but she really didn't care. The feel of food in her mouth and being able to raise a cup of water to her dry mouth and lips was divine. She could feel her body re-energising already. Once she had finished she wondered if there was any exercise she could do in spite of her manacled wrists. She wanted to stretch her muscles while she could. She decided she would try and do some sit-ups. As she worked out, she wondered if he was watching on his video. She glanced around the room and couldn't see any obvious cameras. They must be hidden. She decided she didn't care though. She had to do something to while away the hours while she just waited for whatever it was that he had in mind.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N Just a reminder this is M-rated. Some violence in this chapter, both physical and psychological.**

16

18 days ago

Part 3

The sit-ups only entertained her for a short while. She then turned her attention to a more thorough inspection of her restraints. They were frustratingly well-made it seemed for she couldn't find a single flaw. She then inspected her immediate surroundings once again, examining carefully everywhere that she was able to reach, looking for anything at all that might help her, but once again it was in vain. Frustrated she sank down and brought her knees up, hooking her cuffed hands around them. She was going crazy with the enforced isolation. It was a technique she had to a certain degree often used herself when interrogating suspects – locking someone up alone for several hours often had an uncanny knack of making them talk. She had never truly understood it first hand like this before though. She wondered when he would be back. The fact that he would eventually return seemed certain. At first she had willed him to stay away for as long as possible, but over the last hour or two she had started to long for some human contact, even if it was just him bringing her a meal or taking her to the bathroom. Sitting here with absolutely nothing to do was driving her insane.

She wondered how far Elliot had got with his search for her. She smiled as she recalled the look of deep concentration he would have on his face when he got absorbed in a case, determined that nothing would get in his way of solving it. He would be frantic though and that thought sobered her. I mean, she was essentially all right. Yes she had been taken against her will and restrained and subjected to a few humiliations but so far she hadn't been touched in the way that she most feared. She shook her head. What was she thinking? She had seen the contents of that cupboard. It was just a matter of time. Maybe this was all just part of her captor's plan to wear her down so that she would be more pliable when he actually made his move.

Maybe she should submit when the time came? Would it be better in the long-run? If she did what he wanted, maybe he would use less force, grow to trust her and eventually slip up? It would just be a matter of time. How much time though? She was half-surprised that she was thinking of a long-term plan like this. She had only been here a few hours and in all likelihood Elliot and the SVU team would track her down and find her sooner rather than later. She imagined they would all be working round the clock until they found her. Oh God, the thought of them rushing in, seeing her like this, chained up like an animal on the floor. It made her cringe. The knowledge that the likelihood of something like this ever happening to any of the others she worked with was probably virtually non-existent angered her. Basically she was in this predicament because she was a woman: the so-called 'weaker sex'. It was a stereotype she had always fought against but at the end of the day, here she was: trapped, tied up and at the mercy of a man. What had she been trying to prove? It all seemed pointless now. She had ended up in the very position she had vowed never to let herself get into.

Having to accept her vulnerability directly brought about by her gender had really knocked her for six after the whole Seal View incident. Sure Harris hadn't succeeded in _actually_ raping her, but he hadn't needed to. He had proved he could have and the only thing that had stopped him was yet another man, rushing to her rescue. Her confidence had been shattered and for a short while she had even questioned her future career path as it stood. There had been one particularly bad night a couple of weeks after the incident, when she had been unable to sleep and she had gone to Elliot's house. It was 2am by the time she got there and she had pulled up outside, suddenly feeling guilty so not getting out of her car. He was with his family. He didn't need to be dealing with any of her shit, certainly not at this time of the night. He probably had enough of her at work anyway. So she had left and driven around for a while aimlessly. Eventually it had started to get light and she had gone to the precinct and hidden out in the cribs for a couple of hours.

Elliot had sauntered into work later that morning, taken one look at her and pulled her aside, asking her seriously if she was OK. She had almost told him then, but only almost. Instead she had fallen back on her usual act and insisted she was fine and he hadn't persisted. She wished he had. She had been so close to telling him everything. If only he had known how close she was to talking. She had decided later that day that she would get over it by herself and not drag her friends and colleagues into her personal problems.

Once again she felt the familiar sensation of a tear sliding down her cheek. It was so hopeless. Where was her captor? Why didn't he come? Why leave her here like this? Was it his intent to make her lose her mind? She lay down on the floor, trying to get as comfortable as she could. It was all too much. She suddenly felt so tired and overwhelmed. Maybe some sleep wouldn't be a bad thing. She could get away from this horrible situation for a short while at least.

…

She woke at the sound of the door being opened and immediately got into a sitting position. She wondered how long she had been asleep and the growling in her stomach suggested it might have been a while. Her mouth was dry too. She licked her lips, trying to moisten them and looked towards her captor nervously.

He slowly stepped into the room, staring at her intently, making her avert her eyes to the floor. It was unsettling how his gaze so completely intimidated her. She longed for him to say something or ask her something; give her something to focus her mind on other than her immediate predicament. She wondered if she should risk speaking, but the thought of being tied down on the bed again influenced her decision to keep her mouth firmly closed. Instead she started subconsciously tapping her knees with her fingers, anxiously awaiting his next move.

"Olivia Benson," he said simply. She shuddered. Hearing her name spoken by him like that made her feel even more vulnerable. He knew so much about her, yet she knew absolutely nothing about him, except that he was holding her here and her fate was completely in his hands.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he instructed and reluctantly she raised her head, once again feeling his gaze penetrate her. It was as though he was attempting to pierce her mind with that look. She had never felt so exposed.

"I think it's time we started," he said ominously. A wave of panic now hit her as she imagined exactly what he might mean by his words and she found herself instinctively moving back, trying to get as far away from him as she could. She feared an angry response, but instead he just looked amused. She kind of understood. It wasn't as if she had any real hope of escape, chained to the floor as she was. Once again the extent of her vulnerability hit her. She hunched her body up, as if trying to protect herself as best she could. She was convinced he was staring at her breasts now and once again she found herself on the verge of vomiting.

He stepped towards her and made to touch her and before she could process the thought, she found herself lashing out with a speed and strength that surprised even her. As her foot collided with his shin she felt the rush of adrenaline hit her and energised she swung round, preparing to aim another kick, this time hopefully somewhere that would cause a little more damage. Once again her foot collided with him, this time hitting him in the hip. He stumbled back just out of her range and she gathered herself into a defensive position, awaiting his next move.

"Well it seems you aren't quite ready after all," he snarled, his hand on his bruised hip protectively. "You are one stupid woman, Olivia. What did you really think this was going to achieve?" He once again stepped towards her, but this time he was prepared. He landed a punch on her face and she immediately felt the blood trickling from her now split lip. The pain shocked her and she raised her arms defensively, indicating her surrender. What was the point? She was chained up for God's sake. Even supposing she did overpower the guy, what then? She was still trapped.

Seeing her obvious change in attitude, he took the opportunity to completely overpower her, pinning her down on the floor with his own body weight.

"You're going to regret this," he growled. "By the time I'm finished with you, you will be begging me to touch you."

"P…p...p…please," she whispered, hating to hear the fear in her own voice. "I…I'm a cop." It sounded pathetic. Was this all she could come up: a veiled threat implying that her position as a detective would make it worse for him, were he caught? She was now struggling to breathe under the weight of him and she fell silent.

"Did I give you permission to speak?" he asked angrily. "Although, actually, this might be good... Go on. Beg. Beg for your life and if you're lucky I may just spare it."

She shook her head sadly, tears glistening in her eyes. Then she felt the sting as he hit her again. Her head connected with the floor hard and for a moment she felt dazed and struggled to remember what it was she was supposed to do.

"Beg!" he repeated, almost shouting now. "Beg, you bitch!"

"I… I… please… I…"

"Not good enough!"

"Please don't hurt me," she managed, her insides clenching as she said the words. How had she been reduced to this?

"That's a bit better," he said. Then he pressed his arm down heavily on her neck, causing her to gasp for air, her eyes wide with panic at having her airway compromised like this.

"Again!" he repeated. Then he released the pressure slightly so she could speak.

"Please don't hurt me," she said.

"Say you'll do anything!"

"I'll…I'll do anything." She knew she sounded reluctant. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

"I don't believe you will yet… but eventually you will," he said confidently.

He paused for a minute, once again staring at her. Then he spoke.

"Right, let's get you back to the bed."

"No… please, no…" she moaned desperately. "Please. I'm sorry. I really am. I won't fight you again."

"No, you won't," he agreed, yanking her to her feet and half pulling, half dragging her to the bed.

"Please….please, don't do this!"

"Now this is more what I had in mind when I asked you to beg," he grinned. "Since you're doing so well, perhaps we'll forgo the chest straps this time?"

The sob escaped her lips before she could prevent it. It was too much. She hated her own actions. He had asked her to beg and all she had to do was play along and put on a convincing act… yet she knew it wasn't an act. She wasn't pretending to beg – she meant it wholeheartedly. She felt like she had lost all sense of her own pride. She felt like a coward. Would Elliot be begging like she did, or would he be fighting to the bitter end? She knew the answer to that one.

Completely dejected, she didn't fight at all as he once again expertly pinned her wrists and ankles into position and then placed the blindfold over her eyes. She barely flinched when he ran his hand down her thigh and held it on her knee, gently stroking her as he might a pet. She just felt numb. Tears once again filled her eyes, but she was too miserable to care. In any case the blindfold was doing a wonderful job of soaking them up.

"I feel like there is a barrier between us," said her torturer softly. "I know this will be hard for you, but I don't think I have any choice but to tell you the truth. Then we can start to build our relationship with no obstacles.

His words were barely sinking in. The only thing she was certain of was that he was obviously deluded and living in some kind of fantasy world. Did he actually really expect her to consider this was anything but some kind of sadistic attack? How dare he even entertain the idea that she would in any way consent to this?

"It's about your boyfriend," he continued.

"What?" she said, her heart sinking even further than she thought possible. As far as she was aware Elliot had been left behind in the bedroom, admittedly chained to the radiator, but safe. He would have eventually worked his way free and he would have no doubt gone straight to Cragen and the rest of the team. As embarrassing the thought of them all finding her in this situation was, the thought of them not finding her was much more horrifying.

"I'm afraid we couldn't leave any loose ends."

His words hit her hard as she took in the meaning implied behind them.

"Noooooo," she whimpered desperately. "Noooo, please, no."

"It's for the best. You have me now."

She heard him leave the room and she once again found herself alone with the horror of what she had just been told playing over and over in her mind. Elliot couldn't be dead. He just couldn't be. The thought of him out there searching for her and their eventual reunion had been the one thing keeping her hopeful. If he was gone, what was the point in anything any more? She couldn't face her life without him. If he were dead then she knew that her focus would no longer be on escape from her prison, but escape from her life.


	17. Chapter 17

17

_18 days ago part 4_

Her tears had stopped falling a while ago and she was left with the uncomfortable feeling of her red and swollen eyes underneath her blindfold, a stuffy nose and a considerable headache. It ached not only from the crying but also from where he had smacked it into the ground earlier. As she calmed down she made a conscious decision that she wouldn't accept her torturer's words. She needed to believe Elliot was alive and looking for her if she was going to get out of this. Reality could wait. She needed to hold onto whatever hope would get her through right now. She tried to anyway; her thoughts would still frequently wander to a very dark place.

It was getting cold. She wondered if that meant it was evening. Had she really been here almost a whole day then? When would they find her? She could feel the goose bumps breaking out all over her body as the chilliness of the room enveloped her. Her belt was digging into her back and she felt every pressure point where her body was in contact with the firm mattress. She knew it wasn't good to be kept immobile for so long. Nurses would turn bed-ridden patients every couple of hours to prevent bedsores and they would be encouraged to move as much as possible. She could also feel her bladder starting to protest once again.

Eventually he returned. In silence, he took her to the bathroom and subdued, she shakily allowed him to lead her upstairs not even bothering to slightly protest at the humiliating repetition of her earlier trip. Once they got back downstairs, she was once again chained to the centre of the floor. As instructed she kept her gaze low but as she heard him moving towards the cupboard she lifted her head very slightly so she could watch him. He had his back to her, so he didn't notice her staring at him as he withdrew a small foldable chair. He opened it up and then carried it towards her.

"Sit," he instructed. She obeyed. She watched numbly as he proceeded to strap her legs to the front chair legs, then removed the handcuffs and strapped her arms to the arm rests.

Then he returned to the cupboard and returned with another chair and seated himself directly in front of her.

"So," he said, "How about a get-to-know-you game?" Knowing the drill, she didn't reply. Instead she kept her gaze focused on a spot on the floor right below her chair.

"Here's how we play. I ask you three questions about me and then you ask three about yourself to me. The one with the highest score wins. If you win, I bring you some food and leave you alone until morning, but if I win, I get to play another _special_ game with you." His tone left her no doubt exactly what game he was implying. She cringed. She wondered at this guy's intelligence though. Obviously she would be able to lie about whatever answer he came up with to her question.

Unfortunately he must have thought of that, for he produced some paper and a pencil. "I'm going to loosen your right hand a little," he said. Write your three questions and answers down and then fold the paper. I will check afterwards; wouldn't want you lying to get out of the fun! And just for fairness, I will write down my own questions and answers too."

She cringed. What on earth could she ask that he would definitely not know the answer to? Her mind was racing and she couldn't think straight.

"Hurry," he said, "Or I will lose patience and we'll skip this game and go straight onto the next."

She hurriedly scribbled down the first three questions that came to her mind, hoping they were difficult enough that he would never be able to guess the answers. Once she had finished she folded the paper as he had instructed and with it in her lap, he tightened her binding around her arm once again so that she could not move her hands from the sides of the chair.

"Right who wants to go first?" he asked excitedly. She hated to see and hear just how much he was apparently enjoying this. He quickly decided it would be him.

"Question one," he drawled. "What is my favourite food?" She frowned. How was she supposed to know that? The only thing he had ever brought her was that ham sandwich. It was in her interest to guess the right answer, but if she did it would be pure luck. She decided to go with the stereotypical hamburger, hoping that there was a good chance she would be right.

His animated, "No!" rang in her ears and she felt the anxiety building in the pit of her stomach. If she got none right, he'd only need to get one of hers and she'd lose. She wondered what would happen if it was a draw.

"Question two," he continued. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself and stay focused. "What state was I born in?" She had no idea. It could be any number of states. His accent was unremarkable. She imagined it was probably fairly local to New York.

"Come on," he said impatiently.

"Fine, erm, I don't know, Massachusetts?"

"Damn it," he swore. She was beyond surprised. She wasn't even convinced what had made her think of saying that. She had been about to say New York or even New Jersey but then deciding she had virtually zero chance of picking the right answer, she had gone with Massachusetts as she loved the name and saying it. Part of her worried though for he had just admitted his state of birth to her, which was the most personal information he had given her so far. She hoped it was a symptom of a lack of care due to his overconfidence, not a result of him feeling he need not worry about how much she knew as he didn't intend on allowing her to ever leave to tell anyone…

"Question three," he continued, his tone now sounding a little irate, which did almost make this ridiculous game somewhat bearable. Getting one over on him would be a victory she knew would renew her strength, for a while at least.

"What is my favourite sexual position?"

She froze. This question brought the subject of sex up explicitly for the first time since she had been taken. It chilled her to be reminded he was thinking about it and how vulnerable she was right now. It confirmed her fears that he had something in store for her that she didn't want to have to face.

"Well?" he snapped. "Answer the damn question."

She could feel her nerves growing. This tendency of his to suddenly switch from calm to such intense anger at virtually nothing was intimidating. He was unpredictable and it made him all the more dangerous. She felt that she was treading on very thin ice around him.

"I, er…" she stumbled. What should she say? The thought of him in any sexual position was enough to make her vomit. She needed to get another right answer, but he was hardly going to write 'missionary', was he? She racked her brains trying to imagine what an egotistical dick like him might have written and nervously she whispered her answer.

"What was that?" he said, a grin forming that told her he had heard perfectly well but was just intent on increasing her discomfort.

She repeated herself and was rewarded with a triumphant, "No!" Still she didn't feel too disappointed overall. She had guessed one right, which meant he needed to get two of hers right to win the game.

"Your turn," he instructed and so she nervously asked him her first question. She hadn't wanted to give him any extra personal information to use against her, so she had tried to think of three relatively irrelevant questions and then had also thought of an idea that she hoped might even intimidate him.

"What is my badge number?" she asked confidently. Reminding him that she was a police officer and that he was going to be in a lot more trouble if she got hurt in any way seemed a good idea to her.

"4015," he replied immediately and smugly and she realised her mistake. Of course he would know that. He knew her name. He had probably got a certain amount of information on her and studied it before coming in for this stupid quiz. She could have kicked herself. She had handed him that first question on a silver plate and now they were equal and he still had two questions to go. He was already urging her to continue on with the next one and reluctantly she continued.

"What's my favourite colour?" She was fairly confident he wouldn't guess this. She had deliberately picked a colour she couldn't imagine anyone guessing: magenta. It wasn't true, but how would he know that? To her relief he chose blue. It was time for the final question. She wasn't feeling quite as confident about this one, but she had no choice but to just go ahead and ask it now, since she had written it down. It was another police-related one, designed primarily to intimidate him, but now she wondered if he would find it as easy to answer as the last one. Surely he would know this?

"How long did I work major case?" It was a trick question. She never had. She hoped he hadn't paid too much attention to her work history. She waited with baited breath for his answer. As the silence continued she began reciting the Miranda rights in her head as she imagined the day she would be able to do it for real.

"A couple of years?" he finally guessed, interrupting her halfway through. She breathed a sigh of relief, shaking her head. He immediately leapt forward and grasped at the paper on her lap, his fingers brushing against her as he took it in his hand. She watched him nervously. If he lost his temper, there was no guarantee she was safe, despite not losing the game. In fact it was one all and he hadn't explained what would happen in the case of a draw.

"Damn it," he snapped. "You weren't supposed to guess Massachusetts." He pulled his chair forward and sat down so close now that their knees were touching. "I was so looking forward to the next game," he said softly. "I guess it'll have to wait until tomorrow now. However, a draw doesn't mean you're completely off the hook. I think I am entitled to something, right?" He placed his hands on her thighs and squeezed her gently. She squirmed but she was pinned to the chair. She was at his mercy. He began tracing his hands upwards and she closed her eyes as his hands drew closer. However, he stopped just as he reached the top of her legs. She could hardly breathe. Was this it? Was this when he finally touched her, raped her?

"Please…" she whispered before she even knew what she was doing. "Please don't." He grinned and she shuddered.

"You're getting the hang of this," he smirked. "You know. All good things come to those who wait." He then leaned forward and placed his lips firmly against hers. However, he didn't move but just held the position for a few long seconds, before pulling away again.

"Let's get you to bed and we can continue this tomorrow."

Forty five minutes later, once again tied helplessly to the bed after being given some food and another chance to use the bathroom. A couple of tears streaked their way down her face. She hated herself for being so weak, especially in front of her captor. She had resorted to begging again. What was wrong with her? Where was her strength, her dignity?

"Forgive me, Elliot," she said to herself, her lips moving slightly, but no sound emerging. "I love you. Please find me soon."


	18. Chapter 18

18

_17 days ago part 1_

The sound of footsteps woke her from a fitful sleep. She had spent the night mostly dozing; half-asleep, half-awake, listening for the sound of his arrival and feeling the strain as her muscles protested the forced unnatural position. She was really hungry. The food he had brought her so far had been minimal and the constant growling in her stomach was a permanent discomfort. She also longed for a shower or a bath. Just imagining the feel of hot water on her aching body was enough to make her want to cry again. She vowed she would never again take hot water for granted, as long as she lived.

As his heavy footsteps approached the door and she heard the key turn in the lock, she found she reacted with a strange numbness. The constant vigilance was taking its toll and the loneliness was starting to make her anticipate his presence in an almost positive way. She certainly didn't want to find out what the 'next game' he had mentioned involved, but at the same time, she was looking forward to the human contact. It had only been a day or so, yet already she could feel a change. She was determined to survive and if that meant accepting this new reality, then what choice did she have? She just had to go along with whatever he wanted and stay alive long enough to be rescued. She had decided that night that she would do whatever it took, even 'let' him rape her. If she made the decision to allow it, then maybe it would be as though she was asserting a modicum of control over her circumstances. It was an important distinction for her.

She thought of Elliot. He would be upset, but he would understand why, surely? It was either willingly submit and survive knowing she had taken control of the situation as best she could, or fight and be either killed in the process or ultimately forced into whatever it was he wanted from her anyway. It was a weird decision to have to make. She had wondered before what she would do in a rape situation. When Harris had attacked her at Seal View she had panicked and fought hard. This time was different though. It wasn't a sudden attack. It was something she suspected, knew, was coming and she had plenty of time to plan her response. The reality was she was completely at this guy's mercy physically. He could do whatever he liked to her and she wouldn't be able to stop him. The only weapon she had was psychological. If she could choose to accept her fate, maybe it would make a difference? At the very least, not putting up a fight may reduce her chance of injury and increase her chances of being able to make full use of the moment he let his guard down. Her priority was to survive and escape. She had to find out what had happened to Elliot.

Her captor entered the room and she kept her gaze on the ceiling. Despite her decision and her initial numbness, she found the nerves were staring to take hold of her now that he was actually in the room. She could smell the food he had brought – toast. It made her feel nauseous despite her hunger.

"Morning," he called out cheerfully, approaching her side. She closed her eyes. Not seeing his face made her predicament feel slightly less real.

"Sleep well?" he asked amicably. It incensed her that he would attempt such normal conversation in circumstances like this. The anger was like a wave through her and she clenched her teeth as she waited for it to dissipate.

"I see you aren't in a very talkative mood this morning," he said thoughtfully. He reached over and placed his hand on her face. "Never mind; I have lots planned for us today and talking isn't exactly high on my list." She winced at his touch. His hands were warm, rough and as he ran his fingers across her face she fought hard to quash the rising panic. It was all very well making decisions about how she would react, but it seemed her body had other plans.

"Let's get you up," he said and he released her arms and legs from her restraints, once again handcuffing her hands together as soon as they were freed from the bed straps. She didn't really mind, since it was significantly better than being spread-eagled on the bed. He helped her sit up and perched on the side of the bed next to her.

"Hungry?" he asked. She didn't react, so he repeated the question, this time his tone revealing his annoyance at her silence. Fearing his quick temper, she nodded reluctantly this time. Then to her horror he proceeded to break off a small piece of toast and brought it to her lips. She looked at him, her eyes silently begging him not to do this, but he just smiled sickeningly, pressing hard against her closed lips.

"Open you mouth," he instructed. Reluctantly, she did as she was told and slowly began to chew. He continued breaking off pieces of toast and feeding them to her. By the time she had finished one slice she felt she could eat no more, but he insisted and she forced herself to swallow and chew, her nausea rising by the minute as her stomach protested the sudden onslaught of food after being empty for so long.

"There!" he said triumphantly once she had finished the last morsel. "That wasn't so hard, was it? So, how about a bathroom trip now?" He slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her to her feet. She was concentrating too hard on suppressing the nausea to really care about the intimate touch and she allowed him to lead her across the room and up the stairs once again. However, the stale musty smell of the bathroom was the final straw.

"I'm going to be sick," she said urgently. He muttered in disgust, but quickly swung her round, raising the toilet seat so she could vomit into the bowl, which she did. The force of the vomiting made her feel momentarily dizzy and exhausted. Tears ran down her face. He led her to the sink and splashed some cold water on her face before handing her a cup of water to swill her mouth out.

"Thank you," she whispered without thinking, although she regretted it a little when she saw his pleased smile at her deferent attitude. She supposed she was being a "good little prisoner" for him.

"I guess I pushed you too far with the toast," he said after a minute. "Next time we'll go more slowly. You need to eat."

He then ushered her back to the toilet to pee and once she had finished he took her back downstairs, instructing her to sit on the bed. She sank down miserably, watching him uneasily out of the corner of her eye, despite her lowered head. The fact he hadn't tied her down yet was disconcerting and she wondered what he had planned for her.

He returned from the cupboard with a blindfold, placing it over her eyes roughly, completely taking away her ability to see and making her feel even more vulnerable if that were possible. She involuntarily shivered as he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down, swinging her legs round so she was lying flat on the bed. She felt the sinking of the mattress as he perched beside her, his hip brushing slightly against hers. Her heart was pounding. She had never felt so helpless in her life.

"I've been looking forward to this all night," he said. His calm tone was just all the more unnerving.

"Please don't," she said. "Don't do this." The words left her mouth before she remembered her earlier decision to just submit.

"More!" he said excitedly. "Beg me! Make it good!" She cringed. She didn't want to pander to his enjoyment for these games. She hated that he was taking such pleasure from her obvious distress.

"Please stop this," she continued never-the-less. "Please let me go. I'll do whatever you want. Just promise to let me go as soon as you've finished."

"Oh believe me! - You'll be doing whatever I want anyway! Soon, you'll be begging me for real. I'm going to show you. You'll be begging me so hard, that you'll be screaming for mercy. You are going to really enjoy this. That's a promise I can definitely keep."

His words were barely resonating. This couldn't be real, surely. This sick bastard sounded serious though. She started to wonder if she really would be able to survive this. Maybe it would be better to fight and be killed in the struggle? Surely anything had to be better than submitting to this monster?

She felt his hands on her again, this time on her stomach. He was pulling up her t-shirt and placing his hand against her bare stomach.

"So smooth," he murmured appreciatively.

"Don't do this," she said. "Please." It was barely more than a sob.

"You know, I'm looking forward to this. It'll be interesting to see when you switch over from begging me to stop to begging me to carry on for real."

"You're out of your mind!"

He slapped her hard across the face then, withdrawing his hand from her stomach in the process. She felt the sting and imagined that her face had likely turned bright red where his hand had impacted her.

"Apologise!" he ordered.

"I… I'm sorry," she stammered quickly, her sobs threatening to take over now.

"Bitch!" he growled.

She sincerely regretted her mistake. This was serious. This guy was so unstable it was highly possible he could completely lose it and really hurt her. She sniffed, trying to stifle her tears. She knew he was getting off on her fear and she hated that fact.

"Now put your hands up over your head," he said. "I'm not in the mood for a fight. I think it might be better to tie you down."

"Noooo," she moaned panicking at the thought. "I won't fight, I promise. Don't tie me down. Please. I promise."

"I don't think you'll be able to help yourself," he said. "You're not quite at that point yet. It's OK though. You'll get there. For now, I think it's better to be safe than sorry, so hands up!"

Dejected she did as she was asked and he hooked a strap through her cuffs, pinning her arms above her head, although she found she had some limited movement. He then strapped her legs equally loosely, one to each bedpost.

"See, I like a little bit of struggling," he explained. "No fun if you are completely immobile!"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked desperately, not really expecting an answer,

"Because you are mine!" was the chilling reply.


	19. Chapter 19

19

_Present time_

The heaviness that had settled over his chest was threatening to completely envelop him. Sitting here, listening to the woman he loved speak of the nightmare she had gone through was ripping his heart to shreds. It was incomprehensible. He gripped her tightly, holding her close to him, but despite the physical closeness, it was as though she were a world away. He could see it in her expression. She was lost in the memories and given the horror of what she was recounting he wondered if she would ever be able to find her way back to a normal existence again. He dreaded hearing what was next. He knew deep down exactly where this was leading, but he still didn't want to face it. He couldn't bring himself to really accept what she was saying. The questions wouldn't leave his thoughts: was she raped? How many times? How far did that monster go?

He didn't really notice the few tears which had escaped, slowly tracking a path down his cheeks. He barely noticed the slight feeling of nausea that the details of her story had invoked or even that his arm was falling asleep from the weight of her against him. All he could focus on was the sound of her voice and the sight of her beautiful, sweet face and the expression of pure pain and despair which he had seen time and time again on the victims he dealt with, but had never ever believed he would see on her. She didn't deserve this. She was a good person. She helped so many others. He should have been able to protect her. He should have done more to find her during those two days. All that time her nightmare had been unfolding and he had been unable to prevent it or at least stop it before it got so far.

He wondered if he really possessed the strength to hear the rest. Maybe he should ask for a break? This wasn't about him though, it was about her. He couldn't possibly stop her now. She needed to get this out and he needed to be strong for her. He knew, whatever had happened, whatever she had been forced to do, it wouldn't change the way he felt about her. The thought of her being abused like that filled him with anger and his desire to protect her was heightened. He felt his grip tightening and she squirmed, leading him to realise it was perhaps a little too tight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, loosening his grasp slightly, but still keeping his arms firmly around her. His hand searched out hers and he took it, gently caressing her fingers with his. He wanted her to know and feel just how much she meant to him, how he was here for her and how he would never ever let anything like this happen again, whatever the personal cost.

"El," she said shakily.

"Yes, sweetheart," he said.

"I…"

"What is it?" He realised her tears were causing her to struggle to say whatever it is she was trying to say. "Shhhh," he soothed. "It's OK. Take your time."

"Stay with me," she managed to say.

"Of course I will," he assured her, puzzled as to why she might possibly think he wouldn't.

"I don't want to be alone."

"It's OK. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't understand."

"I do. Of course I do. I'm here with you sweetheart. You won't ever be alone again."

"I…"

"Liv, please, tell me. What is it?"

"I'm scared, El. I'm so scared." Her voice was so small he could barely hear her.

"It's OK. It's all over. You're safe now. I promise." He was trying to reassure her, but even to his own ears his words sounded so inadequate.

"I don't know what I'd do if I didn`t have you," she said finally.

"You don't need to know. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I love you so much." He kissed her head and he felt the violent shuddering of her body as her sobs really took hold.

They remained in silence as she fought to regain control of her emotions. Finally her body stilled and he knew she had re-established some degree of calm.

"Liv," he said gently, stroking her hair as he spoke. "Tell me what happened next."

After several seconds of silence, she took a deep breath and then continued…


	20. Chapter 20

20

_17 days ago part 2_

Adrenaline flooded her body as a wave of sheer panic suddenly hit. Her desperate screams for help sounded almost non-human even to her own ears. She started thrashing hard, pulling at the restraints violently; ignoring the pain in her wrists and ankles where the straps rubbed and pulled against her delicate skin. To her surprise she found her right foot jerked free, the strap ripping clean off the bed post. She wasted no time in kicking at him as hard as she could. She made contact but her angle wasn't great and she knew she hadn't done any real damage, only likely pissed him off. He immediately leapt out of her range cussing loudly at her sudden rebellious outburst. At that point she was way past caring what she was doing. She was acting on pure instinct. She had to get out of there and fast.

She hoped she could wrench another strap free but it seemed she wasn't going to be that lucky. She did succeed in managing to knock the blindfold off. The light, although not even all that bright really, still made her momentarily wince as it hit her eyes. She could feel her initial outburst of energy already subsiding and the pain in her wrists was starting to hit home and draw her attention. She wasn't going to give up though. If one strap had broken, then there was a good chance the others would too. She wasn't just going to lie there and let him rape her. She was going to fight to the bitter end.

She was aware he was once again moving to the cupboard and her heart sank as he returned with a new strap for her foot. She continued thrashing, although she knew she had lost momentum. She stopped. It would be much better to let him think she was exhausted and wait until he got close enough for her to kick him properly. She realised she was shaking from the exertion and she had never felt her heart beat so fast. She could hear it thundering in her ears and for a second she wondered if she was in real danger of a cardiac arrest.

"You don't give up easily, do you," he said. He was still out of range of her foot, but he was getting closer. He was staring at her with the expression a mother might have on her face at the shenanigans of her naughty child. It incensed her. It scared her. She had to get away from this creep. She felt like she had a huge weight on her chest. Her breaths were coming fast and hard, but it still felt as though she couldn't get oxygen into her lungs. She stopped thrashing and she almost forgot about him as she found herself concentrating only on her breathing, or rather her perceived lack of it.

Her breathing was getting faster and faster. She felt like she was going to pass out. She registered the strap going around her leg and she tried to pull her foot away weakly, but it didn't make any difference. Within seconds she was right back to where she had started, except now she couldn't breathe. Maybe this was for the best though? Surely dying would be better than what he had planned for her? Then the image of Elliot came into her head and she hated the thought that her death would cause him so much pain and she knew it would. He was the only person who had ever truly loved her. God knew why, but he did and she couldn't do that to him. She had to hold on for him. She had to see him again. She had to tell him just how much he meant to her. She had to feel his arms around her again, holding her, making her feel safe.

She fixated on slowing her breathing down. She could do this. All she had to do was get through whatever it was he was going to do to her. She just had to wait a little bit longer. Elliot would come for her, he would. But what if the bastard had told the truth? What if Elliot really was dead? What if he really had left her? What if she suffered through all this for nothing? What if no one ever did come to rescue her and she was alone here for the rest of her life, however long that was, alone with him?

He was approaching again. She turned her head to watch him. He had a cup in his hand which confused her.

"I want our first time to be special," he said, the corners of his mouth giving her the impression of a snarl such as you'd imagine a villain in an over-the-top low budget movie. "I can't have you thrashing about like that. I mean I like a little resistance, but I draw the line at actual bodily harm. I need you pliable."

She had no idea how he intended to make her 'pliable' exactly, but it sounded ominous enough to send a shiver through her. He wanted pliable? Well he could want, because the last thing she was doing was voluntarily submitting to him. Her decision swung back once again to her drive to fight him every last step.

"See, you over-exerted yourself," he said calmly. "Drink some soda; collect yourself a little and then we can start again."

She shook her head firmly as he brought the cup to her lips.

"Not thirsty," she whispered, her dry throat irritatingly betraying her as it forced her into a reluctant cough.

"Drink!" he instructed, his tone now loud and threatening. Once again he placed the cup to her lip. She knew it was all about control. He wanted her to submit to his every whim, his every instruction. It was this he got off on. Feigning obedience, she took a sip and watching his pleased smirk, unable to resist, she aimed straight at his face, spitting the contents of her mouth onto him, the smirk of satisfaction now hers.

He lost it then. He reached forward grabbing her hair and pulling hard, the pain making her cry out in shock. He took the opportunity to force more liquid into her mouth, then smacked his hand over it, his other hand holding her nose forcing her to swallow if she wanted to breathe. As she spluttered on the first mouthful that had reached her throat, he poured more in. Tears came to her eyes as she tried to stop herself from choking on the soda by swallowing as fast as she could. Once he had managed to pour the remainder of the liquid down her throat he released her giving her hair one final yank just before he did so.

"Who's in charge?" he bellowed at her.

Coughing, she was unable to reply straight away. She felt the sting of his hand across her face, and cried out, the pain worsened by the fact he had managed to strike her in the exact same spot as he had earlier.

"Who's in fucking charge?" he yelled again.

"You… you are," she stammered meekly, no longer feeling anywhere near so brave, almost to the point where she thoroughly regretted the spitting.

"That's right!" he said. "And don't you fucking forget it!"

To her relief, seemingly satisfied at the outcome of his latest attempt at showing her exactly where she stood with him, he stepped away and started rummaging through the cupboard again. She didn't care what he was doing as long as he was away from her.

It suddenly hit her just how tired she was. The exertion of her adrenalin fuelled outburst must have taken it out of her, she decided as she yawned: that combined with the general lack of sleep and nourishment over the last couple of days. She felt like she could do with at least a twelve hour sleep, but it was hard to relax with her captor so close and constantly threatening her personal safety. She wondered why he hadn't already made his move. These mind games were torturous. The fact he was content to take his time didn't fill her with confidence that a rescue was imminent, for it suggested he was definitely under the impression he had no need to rush.

Her brain felt as though a mist had descended on it. It was a struggle to keep her thoughts focused. She would start thinking of one thing and end up thinking of something completed unrelated. It was disconcerting. No doubt down to the trauma, she guessed, but it still didn't make it any easier. She wondered what he was doing. He seemed to be taking ages. She glanced over and noticed him staring at her and she turned away again. The last thing she wanted was to make eye contact. She was terrified he was over there planning the intricacies of her rape, no doubt deciding what tools he needed from that damned cupboard. The thought sent a shiver of fear through her, but at the same time she also felt surprisingly numb. She had spent so long fearing his next move that she was tired of it now. What was the point? She was trapped here, at his mercy and there was no escape. Besides she was so tired now that she really started to think she didn't care any more what he did. She just wanted to sleep.

The room was spinning. She tried focusing on a spot on the ceiling but her eyelids felt so heavy. She couldn't fight it; she didn't want to. She was suddenly hit with just how ridiculous her situation was: she was about to be raped and there she was contemplating sleep. It made her giggle out loud, it was so preposterous. It drew a surprised look from her captor, but she really couldn't care less what he thought. It was strange. She was convinced the room looked dimmer than before. Then she noticed a shadow over by the door. It almost looked like a person, someone with a figure very much like Elliot's. Had he finally come for her? She closed her eyes and could feel his arms wrapping around her, holding her tight and safe again. The comfort of his warm touch lulled her into a remarkably peaceful state and she felt herself drifting. She was floating away from the room, away from everything. It was just her and Elliot now.

…

She could hear music, she was certain of it. She couldn't remember where she was for a minute. The bed was harder than hers and why was she stretched out in such an uncomfortable position. She tried to move and then felt the now familiar pull of the restraints preventing her from doing so. She started fully awake immediately as she remembered exactly where she was. The movement caused a wave of pain through her aching head and she grimaced. She couldn't see and it took her a few more seconds to realise that she was once again blindfolded. This time she was almost glad. She was certain light would have hurt her head all the more. Then she noticed her throat and mouth. They were so dry. She felt like she had never been this thirsty in her life. She groaned miserably.

"Morning sleepy head!" he said, further adding to her confusion as she had no idea what time of day it was, or even what day it was. Her abdominal muscles immediately clenched involuntarily at the sound of his voice. She felt so strange. It was like the worst hangover she had ever had, except she hadn't been drinking… and then she remembered how insistent he had been that she drunk the soda. Her world nearly collapsed around her right then. He couldn't have? Had he actually drugged her? Had she been unconscious while he had ravaged her body, doing whatever he liked, knowing she couldn't fight back? She could feel the bile rising in her throat at the thought. Being raped was bad enough, but not remembering it? What if she hadn't been unconscious, even participated, but just couldn't remember it? She knew the effect date rape drugs could have on a woman. The thought of the drugs making her do anything, made her sick. She had never felt so violated in her life. She had to know. She just had to.

"Did you rape me?" she managed to stutter, the words like poison on her tongue.

He leaned over and she could feel his stale breath on her ear.

"That's something you'll be asking yourself for the rest of your life," he whispered chillingly.


	21. Chapter 21

21

_17 days ago part 3_

He had left her chained to the post in the middle of the room again. It was really only then that she noticed she was no longer wearing her own clothes but instead was now sporting a very long T-shirt. She was too numb to really care much. She lay down, curling up into a foetal position, her arms wrapped around her legs and she closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and take her away from the nightmare that was now her life. She felt as though her skin was crawling and it was unbearable. The thought of him touching her, being inside her, all while she was unconscious made her feel absolutely sick to the stomach. It was an awful feeling, like nothing she had ever come close to before. At that moment it seriously crossed her mind that surely dying would be preferably to living like this.

She had no idea how long she lay like that, not moving. When he eventually returned she obediently followed him to the bathroom at his direction and then she forced herself to chew and swallow the food that he had brought for her. She kept her head low, gazing at a single unremarkable spot on the floor, her eyes dull and listless. She knew she was broken. Her mind was shutting down. Maybe it was a perfectly justifiable form of self-preservation: a way to dissociate from where she was and what was happening to her? She no longer felt fear even, just an intense despair that was all-consuming. She truly no longer cared what happened to her, for the worst had already occurred. There was nothing more he could do to her now.

She fully expected to be molested again, perhaps without the drugs this time, forcing real memories to join the imagined ones, but instead he simply started strapping her back onto the bed and she lay back resigned letting him do so unhindered. What was the point in fighting? It had got her nowhere. He controlled her now. She was nothing but a pawn in his sick games. Elliot was dead and would never come and rescue her. The only release would be death and she hoped it would be sooner rather than later. All she knew for sure was that it was just a matter of time before he came back and so she did the only thing she could do: she waited.

_16 days ago_

When he returned she immediately sensed he was agitated. She felt a flicker of fear which told her that perhaps she hadn't buried her emotions so deeply after all. They were still there, bubbling under the surface, threatening to burst free and overwhelm her. She didn't speak but watched numbly as he went straight to his cupboard and removed some items. Her heart sank. She assumed the worst. He stepped over towards her and released her arms and legs from the straps and pulled her into a sitting position. Then he cuffed her hands behind her back and reapplied the elbow straps that he had used that night she had been taken from her bedroom.

His actions immediately brought back memories of that night. She had fallen into a blissful sleep in Elliot's arms after two energetic rounds of love-making that had left both of them exhausted but deliriously happy. She closed her eyes and could almost feel his embrace now. She imagined that instead of the cold metal and leather straps of her bindings, it was his arms holding her and that she was safe and back in her own apartment. It was an image she didn't want to let go of and it was only when she felt herself being violently jostled that she reluctantly opened her eyes as instructed.

"We're leaving," he told her and her eyes widened with trepidation. Was this it? Had he got what he wanted and now he intended to get rid of her? Was it because she had stopped fighting him? Was he no longer getting off on it, now that he had succeeded in subduing her and gaining her unquestioning compliance? Was it really game over for him? She was slightly startled to discover that perhaps she had been wrong about her previous longing for death. Now faced with the real possibility of that happening she realised that in fact she desperately wanted to live, despite what he had done to her. There was still so much she hadn't seen and hadn't done and once again her doubts about Elliot crept in. What if he was actually still alive? She needed to know for sure before she made any rash decisions. Who was she kidding though? It wasn't like she had any real influence over events.

"Stand up," he instructed and she ignored him, remaining seated in a final act of stubbornness. He could kill her if he wanted, but she was damned if she was going to make it easy for him. It was a small act of defiance which of course didn't get her very far, for he was able to easily pull her to her feet. The pain that resonated through her shoulders as he pulled her body upwards made further resistance seem impossible. With her arms behind her back like that, the force of him pulling on them was intolerable. So she walked and he loosened his grip slightly and once again she found herself fully coerced into obeying his commands.

He led her up the concrete stairs and down the dark windowless corridor. It was the first time she had been taken this far from the room she had been kept in. She couldn't help but acknowledge that the lack of blindfold now probably meant she wouldn't be returning any time soon. She knew this was it. He was definitely taking her away to kill her somewhere quiet. She hoped it wouldn't be somewhere too remote. She knew Elliot, if he was still alive, would need her body to be found if he was going to get any closure.

She winced at the mid-afternoon sunlight as she was pulled outside and given the opportunity to breathe fresh air since goodness knows when. Then she found herself being bundled onto the back seat of a sedan and pushed onto her stomach, her arms still pinned behind her, her legs curled up beneath her.

"Stay down!" he instructed before clambering into the driving seat and starting the engine.

She felt the movement as the car pulled away and she wondered how long this trip would take. It was strange to think these were her last minutes on earth. She imagined how annoyed her landlord would be about the missed rent and at losing a perfectly good paying tenant and she smiled almost deliriously. It was so weird the places her mind would take her. She considered pulling herself up into a sitting position, but exhaustion had settled over her and it seemed like way too much effort for too little return. With her arms pinned behind her back like this there was no way she could open the door, so really what was the point? It wasn't even as though she would be able to attract any attention with no arms free, but also it hadn't escaped her notice that the windows were blacked out and no one would be able to see inside anyway, unless they had their face right up to the window. It was hopeless.

The drive seemed to go on forever, but she knew her perception of time must be completely skewed. The sunlight had confirmed that it was daytime at least. It seemed weird that he would take her now. Surely moving under the cover of darkness would be more sensible?

Once they eventually arrived somewhere, she had no idea where, he cut the engine and then after a short while she felt him dragging her out of the car. She immediately recognised she was in a huge car park of an abandoned warehouse or something and then she saw a figure and her heart almost stopped. It was Elliot. He was alive and he was here. She could hardly believe her eyes. She had been convinced she would never feel anything remotely resembling joy ever again. Then she noticed the gun to the back of his head and once again her world clouded over as she understood what was happening.

"I'm so sorry Liv," she heard him say. She knew he was blaming himself, but none of this was his fault. She gazed at him intently, their eyes locking and she tried to convey to him that she in no way blamed him.

"I love you," she managed to say and her heart swelled as she heard him whisper the same words back. She desperately wished she could touch him one more time. She just wanted to confirm he was real, that he was really there. Then she heard the gunshot and she felt the impact of her captor's body knocking her to the ground and then briefly pain as her head collided with the pavement and then nothing.

**A/N Just because I know some of you are dying to know what happened while she was drugged... she will find out eventually. (I have this story planned out to the end... lots more drama to come - of course!)**


	22. Chapter 22

22

_Present time_

She looked at him nervously. She had finished recounting the details of her abduction and captivity, but he had fallen strangely silent, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. She could see the tears in his eyes. She knew he was thinking about it; imagining her there in that basement being raped and she hated it. She hated that it had happened to her and she hated that now it was hurting him too.

"El?" she said quietly. "Talk to me, please." His gaze shifted to meet hers and he took a deep breath before answering awkwardly.

"I don't know what to say. I'm just… I can't…" She could see he was completely at a loss for words. He truly had no idea what to say to her.

"It's OK," she said quickly. I mean, what was he supposed to say? He still had his arms wrapped around her. Maybe that was enough? Then she realised he had started to ask her something and she forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying.

"Liv, after the shooting, at the hospital, did you… erm… did you get an exam... I mean, did they do a rape kit?"

It was perhaps the most difficult question he had ever asked her and he knew it had upset her but he had to know. The exam might have been able to prove whether any sexual contact had actually taken place. In his mind, it seemed vitally important that she find out exactly what had happened while she was drugged.

She told him that she hadn't.

"Why on earth not?" he demanded, his shocked tone doing nothing to hide his disapproval. Of all people, she knew the importance of a rape kit. He couldn't believe she hadn't insisted on one.

"Because I was too damn worried about whether you were going to live or not, Elliot. At the time, a stupid exam was the last thing on my mind, alright?"

He suddenly felt terrible. He had almost forgotten to consider what it must have been like for her to have been waiting at the hospital for hours on end for him to come out of surgery, not knowing if he would live or die. He knew that in the reverse situation he would have been inconsolable. Add to that she had just been through an horrifically traumatic experience and had a serious concussion and no wonder a rape kit had been the last thing on her mind. It suddenly hit him then that she was a victim now. She deserved the same compassion and consideration that she always gave others. She didn't deserve to be chewed out by her partner for avoiding a process, the mere thought of which probably filled her with a horror he could only imagine. Many sexual assault victims were reluctant to further their ordeal. It was hardly an unusual reaction and it made even more sense that she would be reluctant given the fact that it would be her own colleagues investigating her case, asking her for all the intimate details. He understood. The only problem, of course, was it was too late now. Over two weeks had gone by since she had been 'rescued' and all trace evidence would have disappeared long ago.

"Liv," he faltered… "Did it…did it feel like you had been raped afterwards… down there I mean?" He was still desperate to find something, anything that would give him answers.

"El, please… Stop this. I don't know. I'm not a virgin… how would I know? I think I was unconscious for hours. He could have done anything, including clean me up afterwards. I just don't want to think about it. Can't you imagine how horrible it feels to not know? Why do you want to go over it? Haven't I suffered enough?"

The expression of pure pain on his face at her accusation that he wasn't considering her feelings, immediately made her feel terrible. She hadn't meant it to sound the way it had come out. It wasn't that she didn't want to be forced to think about it. After all it was on her mind constantly anyway. It was that she didn't want him imagining her being raped; seeing it vividly in his mind. It completely broke her heart to think he was doing so.

"Elliot, please look at me," she pleaded him, her tone softer now. "Please don't do this to yourself. You can't think about it. You have to put it out of your mind. Please, for me. I don't want you picturing it."

"But don't you want to know, Liv? Don't you want to find out what really happened?" he asked, his voice straining with barely contained emotion.

She reached up and brushed her fingers against his cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that had dampened them, a look on her face that implored him to leave the subject alone. Impulsively he grabbed her head and pulled her close to him, lovingly plying her with soft and gentle kisses. She snuggled into him and he began massaging her shoulders gently.

"I'm so sorry, Liv," he said. It was hard not to imagine it. He kind of got what she was saying though. It wasn't as though he wanted those images in his head. Every time he thought of it, he felt physically ill. He would do anything to go back and change things.

"Me too," she replied.

"What are we going to do?" he asked miserably.

"I don't know," she replied.

…

They remained locked in each other's arms for a while longer before Elliot noticed her shiver slightly and suggested they move to the bed and lay down for a while. He knew she was exhausted and he also wasn't ready to let her go just yet. He wanted, needed, to feel her physical presence and know that she was there with him now, safe. She nodded her agreement and they moved to the bedroom. They snuggled under the covers on the bed and once settled, he slipped his arms around her, breathing in her scent contentedly.

"Are you OK?" he asked gently.

"I am when I'm with you," she replied.

"I'll always be here," he said. "I love you so much, Olivia."

"I love you too."

After a few more moments of silence he was alarmed to heard her sniff and he realised she was silently crying, her head buried in his chest, but without a word he just continued to hold her, soothing her, wishing there was something more he could do.

Once her tears stopped falling, he could feel her tired body gradually relaxing against him until she eventually closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep. Too afraid to move and risk waking her, he lay there thinking about everything she had told him. He was already planning on talking to Captain Cragen and seeing if they could make finding the place she had been held captive a top priority. She had said the creep had told her he was watching her while she was down in that room. Maybe they would be lucky and find some recorded footage, assuming he had been telling the truth and it hadn't just been another tactic designed to intimidate her. Part of him hoped they wouldn't find anything, for the thought of her colleagues seeing her being attacked repulsed him. He knew that she would hate it and consider it a huge violation of her privacy. At the same time though, if it could provide answers to what had happened, it may give her closure on events, a place from which she could possibly heal. He knew the not knowing would probably eat her alive.

She woke a half hour later and he kissed her gently when he felt her stir against him.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"Not really," she replied listlessly.

"How about a little soup? Come on, you have to eat something."

"Maybe a little," she relented.

He made his way towards the kitchen to heat some up and she disappeared into the bathroom to freshen herself up a little after her nap.

When she reappeared, he immediately noticed that she seemed even more subdued if that was even possible. She barely spoke and once he handed her the soup she just sat there twirling the spoon around the bowl, staring at it, with a vacant expression on her face.

"You OK?" he asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time since he had left the hospital.

She didn't reply, but instead just looked at him and in that moment he saw something in her eyes; a naked fear. Something significant was worrying her.

"Liv, what is it? Tell me?" he begged her.

He could see the indecision on her face. He knew she was struggling with whether to tell him or not. He reached forward and grasped her spoon-free hand, holding it tightly as he asked her again to tell him what she was suddenly so worried about.

"I'm late," she said, a dazed expression on her face.

"You're late?" he repeated, confused.

"Yes. My period. It hasn't come. I'm late."


	23. Chapter 23

23

He stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Surely, there had to be a perfectly good explanation? Maybe the stress of her ordeal had delayed her cycle? He would never claim to be an expert on the female cycle, but he knew enough after being married for a huge chunk of his life, not to mention the fact he had raised three daughters. He knew all about synchronised cycles and PMT. He also knew that stress could sometimes significantly delay things. He and Kathy had experienced more than one pregnancy scare in addition to all the actual ones and one time her period had been over two weeks late, having them both convinced that there could be no other possible explanation. It had turned out to not be the case much to their relief at the time. It was possible then that Olivia could be experiencing something similar now.

"How late are you?" he asked, feeling slightly awkward about asking her such a personal question. It really hadn't been all that long since their relationship had shifted into 'conversations about menstrual cycles' territory. He wasn't one hundred per cent sure it was a completely minefield free area even now.

"A few days," she replied miserably, thankfully not appearing overly bothered by the question itself.

"It's too soon to panic," he assured her confidently. "It's likely just the stress of everything you've been through recently."

"El, I've never missed a period in my life. I'm as regular as clockwork and have been ever since I was a teen."

"But you've never been through something like this before."

The second he said it, he wished he could take it back. He could see the flash of hurt on her face. He hadn't meant to dismiss her experience in Seal View. In fact it wasn't just that. He was reminded suddenly that she had an extremely stressful job and had suffered plenty of traumatic events in her life and if none of those had ever affected her menstrual cycle before, then maybe she was right to worry now? After all she wasn't Kathy and he needed to remember that and not compare them. The fear suddenly took hold firmly, knotting his stomach. The last thing she needed was this. How was she supposed to have any hope of getting over her ordeal if she was carrying her attacker's child?

"Let's get you a test," he said decisively. "Then you'll know one way or the other." He really didn't want her worrying about it if there was the chance that she needn't.

"Maybe we should wait a few more days?" she suggested. He knew it was because she was terrified and was hoping to put off facing it for as long as possible. He completely understood, but he still believed it would be better to know sooner rather than later.

"I think we should do it, Liv. You may be worrying over nothing. A test will likely give you peace of mind."

"Do you really think it could just be stress?" she asked hopefully and it was then he recognised that deep down she already knew. She just wanted so desperately to believe it wasn't true.

"It's going to be OK, Liv," he said. "Whatever happens, it's going to be OK, I promise."

"I can't have his baby, El. I can't!" Her words were barely intelligible as her voice caught as she tried hard to fight back the sobs that threatened. "I know you'll probably hate me but I can't."

"Shhh," he soothed. "It's going to be alright. I'll never hate you, Liv. Don't ever think that." It was true. Essentially he wasn't keen on the idea of abortion, in line with what his faith had taught him, but it was one thing to have an opinion on something hypothetical and it was suddenly very different when faced with adverse circumstances himself. All of a sudden he wasn't really sure what he thought any more. All he knew was that she was hurting and he would do anything to take that pain away.

"But El…"

"Liv, assuming you even are pregnant you don't know for sure that it would be his? We slept together that day you were taken, remember? For all you know, it could be mine."

It was obvious the thought hadn't even yet occurred to her and as he said the words he regretted mentioning it. He should have left her to come to terms with the idea on her own schedule. His heart almost broke on seeing the further distress cloud her face.

"I can't do this El," she said desperately. "I can't."

"It's going to be OK," he repeated. His words sounded so hollow. How the hell was it going to be OK? She might be pregnant and there was no way of knowing whether it was his or her rapist's, which would only make the decision on whether to go ahead with the pregnancy all the harder. Ideally if she was going to be considering a termination she should do it sooner rather than later. He imagined the emotional distress would be so much easier when imagining she was just dealing with a microscopic blob of cells. Once the baby started to take form and actually look like one, he knew better than anyone what heartache she would face. He remembered ultrasound scans of his own kids. He knew that she would never be able to get past the decision. It would be something that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"Maybe we can get DNA testing on the embryo?" he suggested. "It could be mine Liv. Let's stay positive."

"But what if it isn't?" He detected the tinge of hope in her voice though.

"Then whatever you decide I will be behind you. I'll be here with you. If you decide to terminate, give it up for adoption even. Whatever."

"I always wanted a baby," she said. "How could I give it away? I might never get pregnant again, given my age. This could be my last chance."

"You don't have to make any decisions now, sweetheart. Let's take a test. Let's see if there are even any decisions that need to be made first. Then we can talk about everything and decide what to do. Nothing needs to be decided right now, OK?"

"You're right." she agreed heavily. "Let's do it. Let's take a test."

…

She held the still-wrapped pregnancy test in her hand and stared at it vacantly. They had gone together to buy one at a nearby pharmacy and had just returned.

"It says you can take it from the day your period is due," he said. He had the empty box in his hand. "If you're pregnant it should show up by now."

She nodded slowly. Then clutching the test tightly, she headed towards the bathroom and locked the door.

He perched on an armchair, waiting impatiently. The whole situation was too staggering to get his head around properly. They had barely crossed over the line from that of friends to lovers and he had been looking forward to them spending plenty of time alone together. He knew full well how much a baby changed things. The thought of their relationship suffering and potentially turning stale as a result of the endless sleepless nights, limited opportunities to be alone together and all the other stress involved in caring for a child, was disappointing to say the least. Of course if it was his he would love him, or her, unquestioningly and there was of course a certain attraction to the idea of their love having produced a permanent bond between them. He also knew how much she had always wanted a baby and she would make a wonderful mother, of that he was certain.

However, if the pregnancy progressed to the point at which a DNA test could determine paternity and it turned out not to be his… well he didn't even want to begin to imagine what that would do to her, or him even. It was an awful situation and whatever happened it wouldn't be easy. Now really didn't seem to be the most opportune time for the stress of pregnancy and raising a child. She needed time to heal. So he prayed and hoped that she would reappear from the bathroom with a smile on her face because it was a false alarm after all.

He tried to ignore his restlessness, but by the time five minutes had passed he was pacing up and down the living room, his ears straining to hear what was going on in there. Surely she must have done it by now? He knew from past experience that these tests only took a minute to yield results. Finally unable to stand it any longer, he knocked gently on the bathroom door, calling her name.

He was rewarded by the sound of the lock opening and he pushed open the door and stepped inside. She was perched on the side of the bath holding the opened test, tears streaming down her face.

He didn't need to ask. The two blazingly bright pink lines could be seen a mile away and they immediately told him what he wanted to know.

"Oh Liv," he muttered, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms, holding her in a tight embrace.

"Why Elliot? Why did this have to happen?"

"I don't know," he replied, tears in his own eyes. It was another one of those questions in life that anyone would be hard-pressed to answer.

"You know," she said suddenly. "If it turns out that it's his, then I guess at least I'll know for sure that he did rape me."

The thought turned his stomach. She had a point though. On the other hand, the baby being Elliot's still wouldn't give her any answers as to what had happened during her captivity. The thought of her carrying her attacker's baby truly sent shivers down his spine. Even though he had promised to be there for her, whatever she decided, he did wonder whether he would be able to really accept the child under such circumstances. It scared him. He knew how much Olivia had suffered, growing up with a mother than both loved her and resented her passionately and he knew she wouldn't want that for her own child. He wondered how you would get past something like that though. How could you stare into your child's face, seeing the features of someone who had turned your life into a living nightmare? There was Olivia though. She was living proof that something good could come out of evil. What if her Mother had aborted her? Maybe this child deserved a chance?

Ultimately though, it would be Olivia's decision. It was her body. He knew he needed to support her, whatever she decided and he needed to make sure she knew that he would always be there. Another baby though? He had really thought he would never be in this position again and now here he was.

"Come on," he said leading her out of the bathroom. "Let me get you a hot drink."

"No thanks," she shook her head fervently. Then shyly she looked at him. "Just stay with me, please…"

The desperation in her words sent a ripple of sadness through his heart. It wasn't that he didn't like being needed by her or asked to stay close, but it was so unlike the strong confident partner that he had worked with all those years that it just rammed home how much everything had affected her. He knew he was probably being a little unfair. Everyone was needy sometimes and she had plenty of reason to be right now. He was pleased that their relationship had changed and she now felt safe and confident enough to tell him that she needed him. It was a good thing. It didn't stop him harbouring a growing sense of hatred towards the creep who had held her captive though. If he could ever get his hands on him, he wasn't sure he would be responsible for his actions.

They snuggled on the sofa and he held her whilst she cried silent tears, her face pressed up tight against his chest. She didn't see his eyes filling with tears too. It wasn't that he was deliberately hiding them from her; just that she never pulled away to see. After a while his gentle caresses seemed to soothe her and judging from the shift in weight and the deeper breathing, he guessed she must have fallen asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

24

_4 days later_

They sat in silence waiting to be called in. She was staring vacantly at a magazine he had picked for her from the array laid out on the coffee table in the middle of the waiting room, but even though she was slowly fingering through it, he knew she wasn't actually reading it. He had abandoned his attempt to concentrate on his own magazine and had taken to staring at the posters on the wall. This being an OBGYN office, there were a fair few with pictures of babies on them and he couldn't help remembering his own children when they were that age.

"Do you want some water?" he asked her. It was always inexplicably hot in hospitals and he had spied the standard water machine over in the corner. He walked over and returned with two little paper cups.

"Thanks for being here," she said as she accepted hers.

"Of course," he said, placing his free hand on her knee supportively as he sank down beside her.

The last few days had been difficult. The shock of her pregnancy had been hard for them both and neither had really known what to say or what to do. They had been unable to make an appointment any earlier than today due to the popularity of the place, but somehow the days had rolled by and now here they were. Part of him hoped that the doctor would be able to confirm it was all just a terrible mistake. Pregnancy tests didn't tend to lie though, he thought bitterly.

He knew it was early to be making an appointment usually, but they needed to confirm the pregnancy officially and find out where they stood regarding DNA testing. He was nervous about the whole thing. They would obviously have to explain to the doctor their situation and he knew it would be difficult for her going over everything again, especially with a virtual stranger. She had told him that usually she only came in for her once yearly pap smear and she had changed clinics a couple of years back so she had only actually met this doctor a couple of times.

They were finally called in after more than an hour's wait and as they walked towards the examination room, he took her hand in his, wanting to emphasize to her that she wasn't alone through any of this. She squeezed him tightly, betraying her nerves and apprehensively they stepped inside.

Elliot was surprised to discover the doctor was male. For some reason he had been expecting a female physician.

"Miss Benson?" the doctor asked. "I'm Doctor Zach Bailey. I'm afraid Doctor Kulkarni is currently on maternity leave.

"I'm sorry Doctor, but do you have female doctor here she could see?" Elliot asked, noticing Oliva's pale expression, a sure sign of her discomfort.

"I'm sorry, but the other female doctor here is in surgery today. If you are insistent on only a female doctor, I can make you an appointment for another time."

"Olivia?" Elliot asked turning to her.

"We're here now," she said resignedly. "Let's get this over with."

"So what brings you here today?" asked the doctor gently. He was obviously used to having female patients unsure at first, for he didn't seem to have taken it to heart at all.

"I'm pregnant," Olivia told him despondently.

"And I'm guessing it wasn't planned… or wanted?" the doctor asked carefully.

"Not exactly," she admitted, falling silent.

"Doctor, there's something you need to know," Elliot said. He could see Olivia was struggling to hold it together. He squeezed her hand, hoping she wouldn't object to him speaking for her. She nodded briefly, giving him permission to go ahead.

"She was attacked. We aren't certain as she was administered a drug, and cannot remembering anything at all, but we think she may have been raped."

"I'm so sorry to hear that," the doctor replied immediately, his eyes radiating compassion. "So you're worried the baby may be her attacker's?"

"We don't know," Elliot explained. "It could be or it could be mine. That's why we want a paternity test to find out."

"Well you know the earliest test you will be able to do is CVS or chorionic villi sampling. How far along do you think you are?"

"Not far," Olivia said. "I must be around five weeks going by my menstrual cycle."

"Well we won't be able to carry out a CVS until you are at least ten weeks I'm afraid."

"We have to wait that long?" Elliot asked.

"I'm afraid so. I should also caution you that there is a low risk to the baby with such a procedure and unfortunately it isn't cheap either. The results will also take several weeks to get back."

"So basically you are saying by the time we find out, she could be well into the second trimester?"

"Yes. I should also let you know that were you considering a termination, this clinic has a policy where we do not carry about abortions in the second trimester unless there is a significant medical risk to the mother in carrying on with the pregnancy."

"What about the emotional risk?" Elliot demanded indignantly. "No woman should be forced to carry their rapist's child!" He felt Olivia's muscles clench as he spoke. He felt bad, but could this doctor seriously be saying what he was?

"I'm sorry," said the doctor. "It's just our policy. You could probably find another clinic if necessary."

Elliot sighed. This was all so complicated.

"Look, let me complete a quick examination and confirm how far along you are and then we can talk procedures and options."

Olivia nodded. The doctor explained that being this early in her pregnancy it would be necessary to perform a vaginal ultrasound rather than an abdominal one and so he instructed her to remove her lower garments and told her he would be back in a couple of minutes, once she was ready.

"Shall I wait outside, Liv?" Elliot asked awkwardly.

"No, stay," she said. "It's nothing you haven't seen before anyway," she added, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight grin that made him chuckle and also wonder at how she could find the strength to joke despite what she was facing.

He stood back while she undressed, his eyes briefly falling on her long smooth legs as she rolled her jeans down them. He was mesmerized. He raised his head back upwards and simultaneously she looked up. Their eyes met and unable to resist he leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips.

Once she was ready, she climbed up onto the examination table and he stood beside her, staring at her so intently that she suddenly felt nervous.

"Will you quit staring?" she asked, a slight smile letting him know she wasn't annoyed, just slightly embarrassed at the intensity of his attention.

"I can't," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was pleased really. It was a brief moment of normalcy that filled Elliot with hope that together they would get through this eventually. He knew it was moments like these that would get them both through the dark days.

The doctor's return immediately brought their attention back to the reason for their visit.

"You'll feel a cold sensation," the doctor explained just before he inserted the wand. Elliot kept his eyes on her face and winced at the same time she did. A gynaecological examination seemed such an intimate procedure. It seemed so unfair that she had to go through something like this anyway, let alone after the experience she had suffered.

His attention was soon diverted though when the doctor directed them both to the screen, where they could now see what looked like a large black blob.

"Well it looks like you were right. Judging by the size of the amniotic sac you are five weeks and one day along."

"Where's the baby?" Olivia asked puzzled. She couldn't see anything but black.

"It's too small to show up yet," the doctor explained. "What you are seeing is the sac which surrounds the embryo. If you come back in a couple of weeks you should be able to see the baby and we'll be able to detect a heartbeat."

"Oh," she said, sounding almost disappointed. At the end of the day, this was her first pregnancy and despite the circumstances she felt intrigued by everything. It was strange how seeing the ultrasound had affected her. It made it seem all the more real somehow and in that instant she knew her decision whether to proceed with the pregnancy or not would now be harder than ever. It was completely overwhelming. The tears built before she knew what was happening.

"Many women get emotional at their first scan," the doctor said sympathetically. The nurse who had previously stayed back just handing the doctor equipment as needed handed her a box of tissues.

"You get dressed," the doctor said. "I'll print out a copy for you and then we can talk some more."

He disappeared to wash his hands and Olivia pulled her clothes back on.

"It's amazing isn't it," she said to Elliot as he took her into his arms for a brief hug.

"Yes it is," he agreed, raising his hand to wipe another stray tear from her cheek.

"I don't think I can do it, El," she said.

He knew what she was referring to. He had always suspected she would find the idea of a termination difficult should she ever really face it.

"I know," he whispered, his mouth pressed up to her ear. "It`s OK."

She tried to will the tears away as she heard the doctor returning to the room. They both sank into the two chairs provided and waited to hear what the doctor would say.

"I'm going to ask you to come in again in two weeks to make sure things are progressing normally," he said handing her a picture of the ultrasound scan as he spoke. "At that time we can decide if you want to go ahead with the CVS procedure or just wait until after the baby is born. In fact, it may be a useful test in any case. We often recommend that our older mothers consider DNA testing to rule out any chromosomal problems with the pregnancy. If you prefer you can wait a little longer and we can do an amniocentesis between fourteen and twenty four weeks."

"I see," Olivia said quietly. She felt like her head was swimming. It was all so much to take in. There were so many decisions to be made.

"OK, well if you have no other questions, then we are finished here for today. I'll see you in two weeks!"

…

They had returned to the car and fastened their seatbelts but he didn't start the engine straight away. Instead he reached over and took her nearest hand in his.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I'm OK."

"It's all a bit overwhelming, isn't it?" he said.

She nodded.

"Do you want to go straight back home or do you fancy going out for lunch somewhere?"

"Do you mind if we go home?" she asked. "To be honest I am feeling a little tired."

"Not at all. Whatever you want." He put the key in the ignition and turned it, shifting into first ready to pull out.

"Elliot…" she said.

"What is it baby?" he asked turning to look at her, waiting before pulling out.

"Thank you for everything." Her sincerity hit him hard.

"I love you Olivia," he said. He had never meant the words as much as he did in that moment.

"I love you too," she replied. He shifted back out of first and leaned over, placing his lips firmly against hers, ecstatic to feel her respond just as eagerly.

"We're going to be all right, Liv," he said, pulling his mouth away and resting the side of his face against hers. He could feel her nodding tentatively. Then once again his mouth sought out hers.


	25. Chapter 25

25

_A week later_

"Do you fancy going out for a walk?" he suggested. It was a beautiful day outside and warm too. He hated being cooped up indoors for long. She agreed and they headed leisurely towards Central Park. He linked his arm in hers and for a moment he could almost forget. It felt good to stretch their legs. They wandered for a while, enjoying the warm sun and the sounds of children playing happily. He noticed her watching them and he knew she was imagining being in the same position, running through the park chasing her own child. He smiled. He didn't doubt she would make a wonderful mother.

He led her over to a bench overlooking the lake and which had just become free and they sat down. Even though the sun was warm, there was a slight breeze and once they stopped moving they felt it. Noticing her shiver slightly he put his arm around her, pulling her close to him, knowing his body heat would keep her warm. He breathed in her scent. Sometimes he could still hardly believe she was there in his arms. All those years they had stood side by side, trying to bury their feelings and now finally they were free to explore them.

"Elliot?"

He heard the voice before he saw her. Spinning round it took a few seconds to recognise her in normal clothing and with her hair down.

"Melinda!" he exclaimed. Olivia started, her cheeks flushing slightly at being caught snuggled up with Elliot as she had been.

"Olivia?" Melinda exclaimed wide-eyed. It was obvious that news of their relationship hadn't yet reached the medical examiner's office and Elliot suddenly felt self-conscious and shifted uncomfortably.

"Wow!" Melinda exclaimed. "You two are…? Gosh! I had no idea! …But I must say it's about time!"

Wondering if it was possible for his cheeks to burn any brighter, Elliot released his arm from around Olivia and got to his feet.

"How long have you two been… together?" Melinda enquired. It was obvious she didn't intend to take the hint and leave, not without finding out all the gossip anyway.

"Just a few weeks," Elliot sighed. "We haven't made an official announcement or anything yet…"

"Although you are all over each other in the middle of Central Park," Melinda grinned good-naturedly. "Understood, though… No one will hear it from me."

"Thanks," Elliot said gratefully.

"How are you doing anyway Liv? I heard about what happened. Thank goodness Elliot was there to save the day, hey?"

"I'm doing OK, thanks," Olivia replied nervously. Of course no one but Elliot knew the finer details of what she had suffered while being held captive. As far as everyone else was concerned, she had 'just' been locked up for two days.

Elliot flashed Melinda a look, warning her to drop the subject and this time she took the hint.

"Well, uh, it was good to see you guys. Hope you have a good afternoon," she said a little awkwardly.

"You too," Elliot replied and after saying their goodbyes, she left.

"You OK?" he asked Olivia gently, slipping his arm back around her as soon as Melinda had left.

"I feel bad. She was just being friendly."

"She'll be OK. She'll think we were just a bit embarrassed at being spotted like that."

"I guess."

Elliot looked at her in alarm. Her voice sounded teary.

"Hey, it's OK," he soothed, placing his arm back around her. "Don't worry about Melinda."

"I'm sorry. It just reminded me. None of them know, do they?"

"No. I haven't told anyone, of course. You should consider talking to Cragen though. He should know what really happened."

"I can't," she replied miserably.

"It's just a thought, OK?" He had no intention of pressuring her. Her ordeal had been so personal and he could understand why she didn't want to talk about it with her colleagues.

She nodded at his words, relieved he wasn't going to press the issue.

"Shall we get moving again?" he suggested.

As she rose to her feet, she was suddenly aware of a very slight damp sensation in her panties that she hadn't noticed while sitting.

"Sorry, I need to use the restroom," she said. Pregnancy hormones were a force to be reckoned with, she decided.

"There's one over there," he said, pointing out a building less than one hundred metres away and they headed towards it.

Five minutes after disappearing inside, she reappeared. He could see something was wrong immediately.

"What's the matter?" he asked urgently.

"I'm bleeding," she said numbly. He stared at her in shock for a few seconds, feeling his stomach knot in fear.

"OK, let's get you to the hospital!" he said. "Come on." Supporting her with his arm, they hurried back to her apartment and to where his car was parked.

…

The nurse on duty in the ER ushered them straight through to a cubicle where she was examined promptly. She nervously endured the ultrasound examination and they awaited the doctor to come and tell them what was happening.

"You know Kathy bled with the twins," Elliot said. "She was around nine weeks. We were terrified, but after a couple of weeks on bed rest she was declared fit and everything went smoothly after that."

"I have a bad feeling about this, El," she said forlornly. "They say miscarriages are more common in women of my age."

"Don't think that. Let's wait and see what the doctor says, OK?"

She nodded.

The doctor arrived shortly after and confirmed her fears.

"I'm afraid it looks like you're having a miscarriage."

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Elliot asked desperately, his gaze fixed on the silent tears now streaming down her face.

"I'm afraid we can only let nature run its course," the doctor said with a sympathetic smile. "I'm so sorry."

"So what do we do?" Elliot asked.

"You can take her home to take it easy for a few days. I'll prescribe something for the pain. Keep her warm and comfortable. I'll also give you the number of a pregnancy loss counsellor."

The doctor turned to leave.

"Can I have a quick word?" Elliot asked. He turned to Olivia, reassuring her he would be right back and then he stepped outside with the doctor.

"Doctor, there is some question as to paternity. She was assaulted and we aren't sure if the baby was mine or her attacker's. We want to get DNA testing. It could help prove her assault took place."

"I see. We will have to take a tissue sample in order to do that. Is she willing?"

"I'll talk to her," Elliot said.

…

Once they got back to her apartment he insisted she change into her pyjamas and get into bed and she didn't protest. She was exhausted after everything. She had been having a few abdominal cramps too, so he fetched her prescription medication and a glass of water and handed them to her. She swallowed a couple of the pills and sank back heavily against the propped pillows.

"Do you want me to get you a hot water bottle?" he offered. She nodded and he was back within a couple of minutes with the bottle.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"The cramps aren't too bad," she said.

"I'm so sorry this happened Liv."

"The doctor said miscarriages are common amongst people my age."

"Even so…"

"Maybe it was his and it's for the best?" she said despondently.

"We'll find out for sure in a few weeks," he said. "Hey can I lay with you?"

"Of course," she smiled, amused to see him eagerly remove his trousers and jump in beside her in record time. He slipped his arm around her and shifted her so that she was now leaning more against him rather than the pillows.

"Maybe we can try for a baby again some day?" he said.

"It's not as though I have ample time to wait though, is it?" she said pessimistically.

"You need time to heal, Liv."

"I guess you have enough children anyway."

"Sweetheart, I know how much this means to you. What's one more, hey?"

"I just don't think it's meant to be Elliot."

"You don't know that."

"It's OK, El. I made peace with it a long while ago. This pregnancy completely took me by surprise."

"You'd make such a wonderful Mother, Liv."

"Please don't…"

She tried to turn her head, but he brought his hands to her face, refusing to let her hide from him.

"You don't have to hide from me," he said. "You're upset. Don't be ashamed to show it."

She looked up at him and saw his eyes also glistening with tears and she was no longer able to stop her own from falling.

"Do you think it knew what I was considering and gave up?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" he asked a little confused.

"Do you think my baby knew I didn't want it?" she whispered.

"No Liv! Definitely not! It was just not meant to be, that's all. Sadly these things sometimes happen. It's nothing you did."

"Yeah I know, but I just can't help thinking…"

"Stop it," he interrupted her. "This isn't your fault. None of it is."

"These last few weeks have been horrible."

"Things are going to be better from now on Liv. I promise."

It was a promise he was determined to keep.


	26. Chapter 26

26

_Two weeks later_

She clutched the brown envelope that her doctor had handed her as written proof, tears streaming down her face. Elliot was beside her, his hand clasping hers tightly but she couldn't look him in the face. The DNA results proved that the baby had been Elliot's, not her attacker's. She was devastated. The fear and trepidation at what exactly had been growing inside her had all been for nothing. The enormity of it was hitting hard and she wondered again if it wasn't in part her fault. If she had been in a better frame of mind, if she had really wanted the baby, loved it as it deserved to be loved, maybe she wouldn't have lost it? She knew deep-down that miscarriages were common, even more so at her age, but even so, she couldn't help but blame herself. Then another devastating thought hit her: she still didn't know for sure if she had been raped or not. It dawned on her then that perhaps she never would know and she really wasn't sure if she could live with that.

…

It was already growing dark as they returned home. As soon as they got inside the apartment, she headed straight to her bedroom. He asked her if she wanted him to get her anything, but she told him she needed some space to think alone. He stood outside the bedroom door certain he could hear her crying, but unsure what to do, since she had been so adamant about her need to be on her own.

"Liv," he called finally, unable to stand it any longer. "I'm coming in, OK?"

There was no reply, which he took to mean as agreement, kind of, so he nervously pushed the door open.

She had drawn the curtains and the room was almost completely dark. She was lying curled up on the bed, the picture of abject misery and it almost broke his heart to see her like that. He went straight over to her and perched down on the bed beside her, placing a hand gently on her back. He felt her tense involuntarily as he touched her.

"Liv, please, talk to me," he begged. He was at a loss. He had no idea what he could possibly say to comfort her. He was upset about the whole thing himself. It had been his child too. They had both lost something so precious and they still had no definitive answer to the big question that neither of them could forget.

"Please leave me alone," she begged desperately, but he shook his head.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," he told her adamantly. "Let me hold you." Hearing no verbal resistance, he lay down beside her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her. Her whole body was shaking from the force of her sobs and she suddenly grasped him and clung to him so hard that he was certain her vice-like grip on his upper arms would leave dark bruises. He didn't complain.

After a while her sobs gradually subsided and her grip loosened. He stroked her hair gently, saying nothing, waiting for her to say something in her own time. After a few more minutes of silence, she finally spoke.

"I want to try for another baby right away, El," she said decisively. He hadn't been expecting her to bring up the subject again so soon. She was looking at him with such fervour in her eyes that he knew she was deadly serious.

"Liv…" he began nervously.

"I'm serious," she added.

"I don't know…" he stammered. It was hard to know what to say. He didn't want to upset her, but he definitely didn't think trying for a baby was the best idea right now given everything she had been through recently.

"You don't want one with me, do you?" she asked miserably.

"No, it's not that," he replied quickly.

"Then let's do it!"

She suddenly leaned in to him and placed her lips to his, roughly.

"Liv, what are you doing?" he asked, pulling away and placing his hands on her shoulders to hold her back.

"What does it look like?" she asked. She wriggled from his grasp and started to remove her top.

"I'm ready El. I want this."

Despite himself, he was unable to prevent his gaze from falling to her chest and noticing the way her black lacy bra accentuated her breasts so perfectly. He could already feel the stirrings of an erection beginning.

"You want it too, don't you?" she said, grinning at him teasingly. She leaned back in and started kissing him again and this time he relented and returned the kiss. He tried kissing her the way they always did, gently but passionately. Usually they worked together, moving in unison and taking their time, but this time her movements were rough and it felt forced. He reluctantly pulled his mouth away, but she immediately shifted her attention to his neck, sucking and kissing him roughly, making him feel desperation rather than passion.

Once again he pulled her back from him. "Liv please, let's just talk for a minute," he said, worried. She really wasn't herself. She had been through so much and he didn't want her rushing into things and making anything worse.

"Just shut up and kiss me," she said, smiling, but there wasn't the usual twinkle in her eye. Even so, he asked himself if maybe he was thinking too much. She seemed to want this and she was a fully grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. Maybe he should just go along with it? He had missed their physical relationship so much. He missed being so close to her, being inside her, feeling like they were one in those precious moments where they were physically joined. He badly craved the intimacy again.

So he removed his top and then he reached for her, pulling her towards him tenderly, clamping his mouth down on hers and thrusting his tongue inside eagerly, hoping to lead her into the type of kiss they usually both enjoyed. It had been so long since they had kissed like this, since he had felt her naked skin against his. As his tongue explored her, he could feel her hands wandering over his chest and around his back and then edging their way downwards towards his pants, playing with the rim for a mere few seconds with her fingers, before she started edging them inside. It was moving much more quickly than he had anticipated. He suddenly felt incredibly nervous again. He couldn't help thinking that she had got it into her head that a baby was the answer to everything and this felt more like a means to an end rather than an attempt at real love-making.

Her hand was now deep inside his pants and he could sense her disappointment at his softness. She clamped her hand around him, trying to stimulate him, but it was no good. He knew he couldn't force himself to do this. He felt like he would be taking advantage of her if he went through with anything while she was obviously still so emotionally distraught. He wanted to make love to her, not be a participant in her forcing herself to have sex in order to have the baby she was suddenly so desperate for.

He reached down for her hand which was stroking him and he clasped it gently and guided it upwards towards his mouth and kissed it softly.

"Don't you want to?" she asked, tears glistening in her eyes at what she obviously was seeing as a huge rejection.

"Of course I do, Liv. I just don't think you do, not really. Not yet anyway."

"How do you know what I want?" she snapped, her harsh tone surprising him a little.

"Oh come on, it's like you're on a mission," he retorted. "What happened to foreplay, huh?"

Embarrassed she tried to turn her head, but he placed his hand against her cheek and refused to let her look away.

"Liv, I love you. Believe me when I say that. I want to make love to you, more than anything. Just not now, OK?"

He watched as the silent tears started to roll down her cheeks.

"Please don't cry," he said, pulling her head towards him, cradling her gently.

"You're right," she sniffed after a few moments. "I'm nowhere near ready, am I?"

"But you will be," he soothed her.


	27. Chapter 27

27

_10 days later_

Cragen had called out of the blue not long ago, asking her to come down to the precinct as soon as was possible. Elliot was already there of course given it was a workday, so she made her way there on her own. It was a little after two in the afternoon and a beautiful bright sunny day, so she decided to throw caution to the wind and walk. It was strange how sunlight could make even the potential monsters lurking on every corner of the street seem so much less of a threat. She knew she had to start getting her life back and walking to the precinct seemed like a small but positive step towards that goal. Even so, she was nervous each time she passed an alleyway or a parked car, but luckily the route to the precinct was mostly busy and the fact there were plenty of people around made her feel a little more secure. When she finally reached the main doors to the building, she was filled with a sense of pride that she had done it. She had walked the whole way alone, without freaking out.

She wondered exactly why she had been asked to come down. The captain hadn't been willing to disclose anything much over the phone, only revealing that they had recovered some evidence which they believed was pertinent to her case and they wanted her to see it for herself. She was apprehensive. She didn't know what they had discovered exactly but whatever it was, it made her nervous. Even the briefest reference to her ordeal brought the memories flooding back so vividly that it was almost as though it had happened yesterday. Yet at the same time it also seemed so unreal, so much so that she had occasionally wondered if it had all been in her mind. Elliot had probably insisted Cragen ask her down, worried about what her reaction would be like at home alone: he had been looking out for her every step of the way ever since it happened.

It was strange going back. Things seemed very much the same as they were before in many ways, except that she was intensely aware that she had changed immeasurably. It was a bit like coming home after a long spell abroad and realising that you no longer belonged there anymore. She felt distanced and it suddenly occurred to her that she didn't miss the place as acutely as she had thought she would.

As soon as she stepped into the room Elliot spotted her and immediately came to her side. He must have been looking out for her arrival. The others made a quick beeline for her too, everyone seemingly speaking at once, asking her how she was, telling her they missed her, asking her what she had been doing lately with all her free time. Elliot noticed the growing discomfort in her expression as the onslaught started to overwhelm her.

"Later guys," he said gruffly. "Give her a little room to breathe, OK?"

He linked his arm through hers, ignoring the startled stares of those who had heard they were now 'an item' but hadn't yet seen it with their own eyes and he led her to the Captain's office. She followed him inside, grateful to escape the scrutiny of the whole department.

"Olivia!" her Captain greeted her with a warm smile. "It's great to see you again! How are you?"

"Good thanks Captain," she replied neutrally. She couldn't shake the nervous feeling in her stomach as she waited to hear what he had to tell her.

"Well, I'll get straight to the point," he said knowing she was anxious to hear what he had to say. "We think we have found the room where you were kept captive."

"You do?" she asked shakily. Even though she wanted evidence of her captivity to be documented, there was a part of her that had secretly hoped it would stay a secret. Finding that room, knowing that the forensic team would be all over it and that her colleagues would be examining every last detail of what had gone on there, felt like a violation of her privacy. It was a bit like having the pages of her diary revealed for all to see and speculate on. The detective in her knew the things that happened in that room were out of her control and none of it was her fault. She had told victims time and time again that they didn't deserve to feel the shame they did, but that it was the person who had hurt them who was shameful. However, that didn't stop her feeling embarrassed and exposed right now. She didn't want the whole unit and beyond imagining what had happened vividly, seeing her laying their helpless, knowing every last detail of her ordeal. It would change everything.

But then did that really matter?

"Liv, there's more," Cragen continued. "We found cameras and a bunch of digital recordings - films."

"Wh..what?" she stammered, both horrified yet captivated, as the answer to the question she couldn't get out of her mind could be on those films.

"Did he? Did you see?" she asked shakily. Her voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. She was aware she was shaking slightly, but she couldn't prevent it.

"That's why I called you in, Liv. We haven't watched them yet…"

"And you want to know if I want to watch…" she finished for him.

He nodded grimly.

"I can't…" she mumbled a defeated expression in her eyes.

"Liv, you need to know," Elliot interrupted.

"How can I watch what that bastard did to me?" she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"You need answers."

"I know, but I just can't. I can't watch it. I can't see it."

"Liv," he said, placing his hand on her arm gently. "I know this is hard, but you have to find out."

"Maybe we should send it to a different jurisdiction and let them view it and report back," Cragen suggested.

Horrified, she turned back to Elliot. "Please, El. I don't want people I don't even know seeing it, people I may have worked with, people I may meet again. Please. Can you do it for me? You can see it first and tell me what's on it."

"Me?" he gasped taken-aback.

"Just you: no one else in the unit needs to see. Please Captain?"

"I don't know," Elliot said nervously. He wasn't entirely convinced he was strong enough to deal with whatever was on that film.

"Please, El. I trust you."

How could he refuse her? Reluctantly he nodded, his heart full of trepidation, wondering if he really could go through with this.

…

He had ensconced himself in a back room with a laptop and the DVDs that had been recovered. He had no idea what he was about to see and he was terrified. How could he sit there helplessly and watch her being violated? He had to do it though. She needed answers and he wanted to be able to give them to her. She deserved that. His one comfort was that at least she had been unconscious, so she had been spared actually living through it.

The first DVDs were not relevant. They were recordings of what looked like consensual sex, although whether the women involved had been aware of the fact they were being filmed or not was probably dubious. Sighing he inserted the fourth DVD into the computer. Then as the images began to play, he sat bolt upright immediately seeing it was her. She was being manhandled into the room. Her arms were bound in the way he had witnessed himself. The video even had a time stamp, confirming that it was a little over an hour after she had been taken from her bedroom. She was also blindfolded now. She had mentioned that one had been applied in the car. Then he caught sight of the knife her captor had placed roughly against her side. She hadn't mentioned that. Had she forgotten? Blocked it out? Deliberately held back details? Was there more that she hadn't mentioned? The sight of the knife sent a wave of fear through him. He couldn't even imagine the sheer hell she must have gone through during those two days.

He watched in abhorrence as the guy they now knew to be named Frank Evans methodically tied her to the bed using straps to pin her hands and ankles to the bed posts as she had described. He wanted to be sick. It was one thing hearing her recall her account, but it was totally different seeing it with his own eyes. He wanted to burst into that room and untie her, take her into his arms, tell her she wasn't alone, that he was there and that he would never ever let anyone hurt her. He hadn't though. Instead she had suffered indeterminately.

The video had obviously been edited to cut out the long hours she had just been forced to lie there, barely able to move. Even so he couldn't face watching it all right now. The question she wanted and needed to know the answer to was had she been raped? He decided to skip forward to the point at which she said she had been drugged.

He stopped it when he saw her wrench her foot free from one of the bindings. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach, as the guy calmly approached her and retied her foot back to the bedpost with another strap. She seemed to be struggling to breathe. It looked like she was possibly hyperventilating or something. The sheer panic in her eyes told him that she desperately feared for her safety. He could only imagine the sorts of things that were going through her mind right then.

Then the guy returned to the cupboard and produced a cup. Elliot watched intently. This must be the point where she had been drugged. There was no sound on these videos, but he could tell the guy was obviously instructing her to drink the liquid and he smiled with pride when she spat it out at him. Even in her position, she was fighting him all the way. His pride quickly turned to horror when her captor violently attacked her, yanking her hair hard and forcing her to swallow the liquid, causing her to cough and splutter.

Then he watched as the drug quickly took hold. She grew visibly more lethargic and within ten minutes it appeared she had lost consciousness. There was an expression of almost peace on her face now. Then a minute or two later, the guy started walking back over towards her and Elliot could barely breathe. He stomach was clenched in anticipation as he watched intently, terrified to see what happened next.


	28. Chapter 28

28

Fighting back the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him, he picked up the laptop after hurriedly shutting it down and headed to where she was waiting. He was surprised to find her alone, but she explained that someone from 1PP had unexpectedly popped in and wanted to speak to the Captain about something or other. Elliot pulled her into an interview room that wasn't being used at that moment so they could talk in even more privacy.

"Did you watch it?" she asked numbly, sinking into a chair, her head down as she braced herself for the impending and inevitable truth.

"Liv, he didn't rape you!" Elliot said elatedly, sliding his chair closer to hers and taking her hands into his, watching her intently as she took in his words.

"He didn't?" she echoed in disbelief, her brown eyes wide, searching his for further confirmation.

"No, he didn't. He obviously just wanted to make you think he had. It was all a sick mind game."

"Did you watch the whole thing? What did happen?"

"After you fell unconscious, he untied you and changed your clothes. Then he tied you back up and just left."

"He left? That's it?" Even though the thought of him changing her clothes was bad enough in itself, it still paled in comparison to what she had been imagining he had done to her during all those hours she had been out of it.

"Yes. He didn't touch you like that Liv."

The enormity of it finally hit and she was aware of the first tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. She felt Elliot immediately wrapping his arms around her then, holding her close to him and she laid her head against him. _She hadn't been raped. He hadn't violated her._

"It's going to be OK, Liv," Elliot murmured softly, the crack in his voice betraying his own tears. She nodded shakily. She knew she still had a long way to go to get over everything that had happened, but the thought of what her captor might have done to her while she was unconscious had been eating away at her and now knowing for sure that he hadn't raped her was an enormous relief. She could hardly believe it.

"I want to watch it," she said purposefully. "I need to see it with my own eyes."

"OK," he said nodding. "Let's do it now."

"OK," she agreed. Elliot switched on the laptop and they watched in silence as it flickered to life. Once the computer was ready, Elliot quickly opened the appropriate video file and after meeting her gaze to check she was ready, he pressed play.

He felt her flinch as the image of her lying there bound and helpless appeared on the screen. He squeezed her hand slightly, wanting her to feel his presence and support.

She watched in silence as he skipped the video forward to the point where she was drugged.

"You were so brave," he muttered as once again he watched her spitting the liquid her captor was forcing her to drink; a display of open defiance that moved him deeply.

"No, I wasn't," she said sadly. "I wasn't thinking about anything. I just did it on instinct."

"You fought him all the way, Liv. You know you did."

"It didn't do much good though, did it," she said negatively, watching as her captor forced her to swallow the liquid in the end anyway.

"He didn't break you. He knew that and it pissed him off."

"Making me think he had raped me while I was unconscious pretty much did the trick though," she said wryly.

"You should give yourself more credit," Elliot said quietly.

"Telling me that you were dead didn't help either."

"I'm so sorry Liv."

"Don't be. You're here. I'm here. He didn't rape me, right?! I'll be fine."

"No he didn't but that doesn't mean that what you went through wasn't any the less traumatic."

"I know that."

"I know you know." He smiled at her sadly, wishing again for the millionth time that he had done things differently and never inadvertently put Olivia in danger like he had.

"Is this where he changes my clothes?" she asked, changing the subject as the video showed the man approaching her on the bed.

"Yes," Elliot replied.

"I don't want them all seeing this," she said desolately.

"They won't have to, sweetie. He's dead, so there will be no trial. There's no need for anyone to see it. I will talk to Cragen and make sure no one goes near it."

"What about the Captain though? He'll want to watch it, won't he?"

"Maybe, but he probably won't if you tell him you don't want him to. But, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. None of this reflects on you or your abilities as a cop."

"I know that. I just don't want my boss and colleagues seeing me tied up and naked. I would have thought you would get that?"

"Of course I do…but he doesn't actually remove your underwear and you can't really see much detail in the recording anyway."

She watched as the man removed her hand and foot bindings, cringing as she saw how she just lay there, not moving, completely vulnerable to anything he might have chosen to do to her. Seeing the recording, her memories of that place had suddenly come back with force. She could feel the cold, smell the dank air and feel the bindings tight around her joints. She gasped. It felt so real. Then she watched as he placed the T-shirt over her head and pulled her arms through one by one. Then he slowly and methodically retied all of her limbs back to the bedposts, checking that every single one was secure. It was as though she could feel the straps on her skin now. Absent-mindedly she started rubbing her wrists. She felt sick.

The man left and Elliot pressed pause.

"That's it," he said turning to face her, worried at how lost in her own thoughts she seemed to be.

"He didn't rape me," she said again. Repeating the words made it seem more real somehow.

"No, he didn't, he said, "Do you want to see any more?"

She shook her head.

"Let's go home, Liv. We can come back in and talk to Cragen tomorrow maybe. I think we should get out of here."

She nodded her agreement.

He switched off the computer and then offered her a hand to help her to her feet. As soon as they left the room, Cragen, who must have finished with his visitor from 1PP, saw them exiting and headed right over to them. He looked questioningly at Elliot who shook his head, smiling slightly, letting his captain know that she hadn't been violated in that way.

"Go home," Cragen said, recognising the sheer exhaustion plain to see on Olivia's face. "Get in touch later, Elliot, but for now, take care of her."

"Thanks, I will," Elliot promised. Then he led her outside and down towards the car.

…

She clicked in her seat belt and stared out of the window vacantly. She could still barely believe it. Seeing herself lying there helpless had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she was glad she had watched it. She had needed to know, needed to see it with her own eyes to prove to herself that nothing had happened and that Elliot wasn't just protecting her from a truth he didn't want her to have to face.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she replied honestly. She was too overwhelmed to really know what she felt right now.

"I was thinking we could go and get something special to celebrate."

"Celebrate?" she asked surprised. It didn't seem quite the right word.

"I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I don't know, I just thought it might be nice to do something."

"It's a good idea, El" she said smiling unenthusiastically.

"It's OK, let's just go straight home. We can get take-out later."


	29. Epilogue

**A/N I've been struggling with where to go with this story after the last chapter - I had a couple of ideas, but ultimately decided to wrap it up as I originally planned by skipping forward into the future a little with a short epilogue. Thanks for reading and reviewing... and look out for my new story as I will be posting it very soon. S x**

Epilogue

_Five months later_

"You ready?" he asked gently.

She nodded and then swept her eyes once more around her now empty apartment. It was surprisingly emotional leaving this place, even though she was looking forward to being in their new place together. It would be strange no longer having her own space. She had been so used to being alone for pretty much her whole life. Now she was moving in with a man: something she had hoped would eventually happen, yet as time had gone on found harder to imagine actually would.

Things had slowly got back to normal after everything that had happened. They had started having sex again a few months ago and gradually she had begun to feel like she could put events behind her and move on with her life, with Elliot. He had been amazingly supportive, listening to her when she wanted to talk, just being there when she didn't. When he had asked her to officially move in with him, she had agreed without hesitation. She couldn't imagine being without him now.

There had been some moments when things had come flooding back and threatened to overwhelm her, but as each day, week and month and gone by she had found it seem to get slightly easier. She knew she still had a way to go, but things were definitely getting better. Today was the start of a new chapter of her life. She was moving in with her best friend and lover and she was excited about the future.

They had spent a few weeks hunting for a suitable place together. They wanted somewhere with room for Elliot's kids and their eventual families to come and stay over if they wanted, so they had found a fairly decent sized apartment with three bedrooms. It had been kept well-decorated and maintained, so there wouldn't be much work they needed to do after moving in and between them both they had plenty of furniture to furnish the place. There was even a small park close by which Elliot had said would be perfect for 'their' Grandkids, making Olivia smile.

A few weeks ago they had had a long talk about everything and had decided that trying for a baby probably wasn't a realistic option. Instead they were looking forward to just being together. The thought of never having a child of her own produced a sadness that she knew would stay with her, but she had accepted the situation. Sometimes life just didn't work out the way you thought it would. Maybe if she and Elliot had been in a place where they could have got together a few years earlier things could have been different. Despite certain regrets, Olivia was not unhappy. She was glad she had Elliot in her life and she would always be able to share in the lives of his children and grandchildren. She finally had a family she belonged to.

"I'm going to miss this place," she said wistfully, as they headed towards the door for the last time.

"You were here a long time," Elliot said sympathetically, reaching for her hand and slipping his fingers tightly around hers.

"I'm looking forward to living in our new place though," she said smiling.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. "Come on. Let's go. I can't wait to get you there!"

"Oh yeah?" she said, grinning knowingly. It didn't take Sherlock to work out exactly how he was planning to celebrate their first night in their new place.

"You bet!" he grinned, leading the way towards their new life together.


End file.
